











y 






. v liirj 

,- x :- ! sRftfftyay- .'3 5 .%fev £- V*“v * -■ *!%Www 

.!■•, ■ aJ > .v.-:. w ,v ,».w Sew*- 


V - * 


* V V> 


%- %•'%- •^- 

LIBRARY OF 


w; * w/ 


RE 


<r/. 


/, 


TED STATE 


S OF 


CA 




1 # 

m 

















1 

• w#s7, - * j 

ly ^' v v. 

NS 

L !*« 


• V ^ ^<s‘ wv. y v; 

* ; ; '\ : ^ ys25?S 

-r 4r1S w»VSV 


. #_■♦' * 

\'+ 

. . - W: 

m 

i 

m 

W' 

33 


MjfcT?* nK*ap % ■ j^P -V 

Pi ; t 7 * V-- f > i 

f r 5^'ffkf *tKl «• 

JkCfe 

l 

i 

« 






































* 






J 


% 



























































t 

* 








































\ 

















s 










































































# 




















« 







• • 




* 










THE LIFE 

OF 

LORENZO DE’ MEDICI, 

CALLED 

THE MAGNIFICENT. 


1 


c. AND J. ADLAIID, Pill MBltS, BaKTHOL MKW'CLOSE. 




. 




ILAWIEIlSfTIITU^ 'MIIiIDI[(0Ii^ o 


3f- flaunt cm. fculp. 


'V O 'WOMWE 3!L4 O Pf IlFir US 





























































































































THE LIKE 


OF 

LORENZO DE’ MEDICI, 

CALLED 

THE MAGNIFICENT. 


BY WILLIAM ROSCOE. 

H 

SEVENTH EDITION, 

REVISED BY HIS SON, 
THOMAS ROSCOE. 


LONDON: 

HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
1846 . 




JDQ_73T 

.9 

.7n 

IS4-G 








































///tfiinm 


' »/ , • // ^ / / i, I 

v v. * '•/ • » >/ ''A//////".',,' 

=*£& t - -V- 

■L 


S.; Sr— .•« 






• - i'W, 

'.a,- . 

life'll- 




//‘""(mi'". • 

. / /^;>/// ///•>• »/////</» k* 1 * • • 

• , ///'>///////V'///./(/</m •••• 
;•/ ■ /'.'.,{/////</<••■ 


, SSSS// //////// 

' >////////////////. 
// // S**'*s/s //// /. 

///"/ s's/A'A's'' "/* 

.•//// ///'////// /■ 


;'///// </ ' 

SS // ///, 

'S,'"' s' 




c 






<z 


^cu'rz/i'nq, 


'n 






arnAC-r 



W T A T 

- L<3 A «&3 •. A 


% 




















































































PREFACE. 


The close of the fifteenth and the beginning of the six¬ 
teenth century comprehend one of those periods of history 
which are entitled to our minutest study and inquiry. Almost 
all the great events from which Europe derives its present ad¬ 
vantages are to be traced up to those times. The invention 
of the art of printing, the discovery of the great western 
continent, the schism from the church of Rome, which 
ended in the Reformation of many of its abuses, and esta¬ 
blished the precedent of reform, the degree of perfection 
attained in the fine arts, and the final introduction of true 
principles of criticism and taste, compose such an illustrious 
assemblage of luminous points, as cannot fail of attracting 
for ages the curiosity and admiration of mankind. 

A complete history of these times has long been a great 
desideratum in literature; and whoever considers the mag¬ 
nitude of the undertaking will not think it likely to be soon 
supplied. Indeed, from the nature of the transactions 
which then took place, they can only be exhibited in detail 
and under separate and particular views. That the author 
of the following pages has frequently turned his eye towards 
this interesting period is true; but he has felt himself rather 
dazzled than informed by the survey. A mind of greater 


a 



VI 


PREFACE. 


compass, and the possession of uninterrupted leisure, would 
be requisite to comprehend, to select, and to arrange the 
immense variety of circumstances which a full narrative of 
those times would involve; when almost every city of Italy 
was a new Athens, and that favoured country could boast 
its historians, its poets, its orators, and its artists, who may 
contend with the great names of antiquity for the palm of 
mental excellence; when Venice, Milan, Rome, Florence 
Bologna, Ferrara, and several other places, vied with each 
other, not in arms, but in science and in genius, and the 
splendour of a court was estimated by the number of learned 
men who illustrated it by their presence; each of whose 
lives and productions would, in a work of this nature, merit 
a full and separate discussion. 

From this full blaze of talents, the author has turned 
towards a period, when its first faint gleams afford a sub¬ 
ject, if not more interesting, at least more suited to his 
powers; when, after a night of unexpected darkness, Flo¬ 
rence again saw the sun break forth with a lustre more 
permanent, though perhaps not so bright. The days of 
Dante, of Boccaccio, and of Petrarca, were indeed past; 
but under the auspices of the House of Medici, and parti¬ 
cularly through the ardour and example of Lorenzo, the 
empire of science and true taste was again restored. 

After the death of Boccaccio, the survivor of that cele¬ 
brated triumvirate who had carried their native tongue to a 
high pitch of refinement, and endeavoured, not without 
success, to introduce the study of the ancient languages into 
Italy, a general degradation of letters again took place, and 
the Italian tongue in particular was so far deteriorated and 
debased, as, by the acknowledgment of the best critics, to 


PREFACE. 


Vll 


have become scarcely intelligible. The first symptoms of 
improvement appeared about the middle of the fifteenth 
century, when Cosmo de’ Medici, after having established 
his authority in Florence, devoted the latter years of a long 
and honourable life to the encouragement, and even the’ 
study of philosophy and polite letters. He died in 1464; 
and' the infirm state of health of his son Piero, who was 
severely afflicted by the gout, did not permit him to make 
that progress in the path which his father had pointed out, 
which his natural disposition would otherwise have effected. 
After surviving him only about five years, the greater part 
of which time he was confined to a sick bed, he died, 
leaving two sons, to the elder of whom, Lorenzo, the praise 
of having restored to literature its ancient honours is prin¬ 
cipally due. In succeeding times, indeed, that praise has 
been almost exclusively bestowed on Giovanni de’ Medici, 
afterwards Leo the Tenth, the second son of Lorenzo, who 
undoubtedly promoted the views, but never in any degree 
rivalled the talents of his father. 

Certain it is that no man was ever more admired and 
venerated by his contemporaries, or has been more de¬ 
frauded of his just fame by posterity, than Lorenzo de’ 
Medici. Possessed of a genius more original and versatile 
perhaps than any of his countrymen, he has led the way in 
some of the most valuable species of poetic composition; 
and some of his productions stand unrivalled amongst those 
of his countrymen to the present day. Yet such has been 
the admiration paid by the Italians to a few favourite 
authors, that they have almost closed their eyes to the 
various excellences with which his works abound. From 
the time of his death, no general collection was made of his 
writings for upwards of sixty years; and after their first 


vm 


TREFACE. 


publication by Aldus, in 1554, upwards of two centuries 
elapsed without a new edition. Neglected in Italy, they 
seem to have been unknown to the rest of Europe. A 
French historian, 1 in whose narrative Lorenzo makes a con¬ 
spicuous figure, assures his readers that the writings of this 
great man, as well in verse as prose, are irrecoverably lost; 
and that he would no longer be known as an author, were 
it not from the commendations bestowed upon him by his 
friends and the attention paid to him by Paulus Jovius, 
who has assigned a place to his memory in his eulogies on 
the modern writers of Italy. 

But we are not to consider Lorenzo de’ Medici merely in 
the character of an author and a patron of learning. As a 
statesman he was undoubtedly the most extraordinary per¬ 
son of his own, or perhaps of any time. Though a private 
citizen and a merchant of Florence, he not only obtained 
the decided control of that state, at a period when it 
abounded with men of the greatest talents and acuteness, 
but raised himself to the rank of sole arbiter of Italy, 
and produced no inconsiderable effect upon the politics of 
Europe. Without attempting to subjugate his native place, 
he laid the foundation of the future greatness of his family. 
His son and his nephew were both, at a short interval from 
each other, raised to the pontifical dignity; and in the 
succeeding centuries his descendants became connected by 
marriage with the first European sovereigns. The pro¬ 
tection afforded by him to all the polite arts, gave them a 
permanent foundation in Italy. In the establishment of 
public libraries, schools, and seminaries of learning, he was 
equally munificent, indefatigable, and successful; and these 

1 Varillas, Anecdotes de Florence, ou l’histoire secrete de la Maison de Medicis, 
p. 149, ed. La Haye, 1687. 


PREFACE. 


IX 


objects were all accomplished by a man who died at the 
early age of forty-four years. 

It is not, however, the intention of the author of the fol¬ 
lowing work to confine himself merely to the relation of the 
life of an individual, however illustrious. Of a family 
of whom so much has been said, and so little with certainty 
known, a more particular account cannot be uninteresting. 
In aiming at this purpose, he has been unavoidably led to 
give some account of the rise of modern literature, and 
particularly to notice many contemporary authors, whose re¬ 
putation, at least in this country, has not yet been adequate 
to their merits. In an age when long and dangerous ex¬ 
peditions are undertaken to develop the manners of bar¬ 
barians, or to discover the source of a river, it will surely 
not be thought an useless attempt to endeavour to trace 
some of those minute and almost imperceptible causes, from 
which we are to deduce our present proficiency in letters, 
in science, and in arts. 

Among the several narratives heretofore published of the 
life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, the most ancient is that of 
Niccolo Valori, a Florentine, eminent for his rank and 
learning, the contemporary and friend of Lorenzo. This 
account, written not inelegantly in Latin, and which com¬ 
poses a small octavo volume of sixty-seven pages, remained 
in manuscript till Laurentius Mehus gave it to the public 
in 1749. An Italian translation had indeed been published 
at Florence, as early as the year 1560. The principal 
events in the life of Lorenzo are here related with accuracy 
and fidelity; but upon the whole it gives us too distant and 
indistinct a view of him. Though sensible in some respects 
of the magnitude of his subject, Valori seems not to have 


X 


PREFACE. 


been sufficiently aware of tlie distinguishing characteristics 
of Lorenzo,—the strength, extent, and versatility of his 
mind. Hence he has exhibited him only in one principal 
point of view, either wholly omitting, or at most slightly 
noticing, his many other endowments. Closely adhering 
to his purpose, he confines himself to too small a circle, 
and enters not into those discussions respecting collateral 
events and circumstances, which a full display of the cha¬ 
racter of Lorenzo requires. The work of Yalori may, how¬ 
ever, be considered, not only as a well-written and authentic 
piece of biography, but as the foundation of all subsequent 
efforts on the same subject, although it wants that interest 
which it would have derived from a closer and more inti¬ 
mate examination of the temper, the character, and the 
writings of Lorenzo. 

By what strange fatality it happened that the reputation 
of the most eminent man of his own age should have fallen 
into almost absolute neglect in the course of that which 
immediately succeeded, it is difficult to discover; particu¬ 
larly when We consider that the Italians have been by no 
means inattentive to their national glory, and that the me¬ 
moirs of the lives of many of the contemporaries of Lorenzo, 
who were inferior to him in every point of view, have been 
fully and even ostentatiously set forth. Whatever was the 
cause, it is certain, that from the publication of the work of 
Valori in its Italian dress, till the year 1763, no professed 
account of Lorenzo de’ Medici made its appearance in 
public; although few authors have touched upon the history 
of those times, without paying him the passing tribute of 
their applause. This is the more extraordinary, as the 
materials for enlarging and improving the narrative of 
Valori were obvious. In the year last mentioned, the 


PREFACE. 


XI 


poems of Lorenzo were reprinted at Bergamo, and a new 
account of the life of the author was prefixed to the work . 2 
From this, however, little is to be expected, when it is un¬ 
derstood that the biographer, in his introduction, acknow¬ 
ledges that it is entirely founded on that of Valori, upon 
whose authority he solely relies, and protests against being 
answerable for any fact alleged by him, further than that 
authority warrants. To an exertion of this kind, as he 
justly observes, neither the deep research of criticism, nor 
the assistance of rare books was necessary. In the few 
attempts which he has made to afiord additional informa¬ 
tion, he has resorted principally to Negri , 3 and Varillas , 4 
whose authority, nevertheless, he has himself deservedly 
impeached, and whose inaccuracy renders their testimony 
of little weight, when not expressly confirmed by other 
writers. 

About twenty years since, several learned Italians united 
in drawing up memoirs of such of their countrymen as had 
distinguished themselves in different branches of science 
and arts ; 5 and the life of Lorenzo, amongst others, fell to 
the pen of P. Bruno Bruni, professor of divinity in Flo¬ 
rence. Unfortunately, however, it was executed without 
any new researches, being entirely compiled from previous 
publications; and it must be owned that the work derives - 
no advantages from the professional prejudices or opinions 
of its author. The conspiracy of the Pazzi is one of the 
most striking events that ever engaged the attention of the 

2 Poesie del Magnifico Lorenzo de’ Medici, con alcune Memorie attenenti alia sua 
vita, Testimonianze, &c. Bergamo, 1763, appresso Pietro Lancellotti. 

3 Istoria degli scrittori Fiorentini, opera postuma del P. Giulio Negri. Fer¬ 
rara, 1722. 

4 Anecd. de Florence, ut. sup. 

5 Elogj degli Uomini illustri Toscani. In Lucca, 1771, &c. 4 vols. 8vo. 


xil 


PREFACE. 


historian; and the circumstances which accompanied it 
compose a body of evidence as accurate and authentic as 
history can produce. But the delicacy of the biographer 
shrunk from the relation of an incident that involved in the 
guilt of premeditated assassination, the Vicar of Christ upon 
the earth! This event is accordingly passed over with a 
general reference to previous relations; and an annotation 
is subjoined, tending to impeach the evidence of one who 
was an eye-witness of the transaction, and whose narrative 
was laid before the public immediately after the event took 
place . 6 No extraordinary number of pages was devoted to 
the work; and it may be enough to remark, that the re¬ 
semblance of Lorenzo de’ Medici does not well associate 
with a set of petty portraits, hung up by way of ornament, 
in frames of equal sizes. In order to do justice to such a 
subject, a larger canvass is necessary. 

In enumerating the labours of my predecessors, it may 
not be improper more particularly to notice the singular 
work of Varillas, to which I have before had occasion to 
refer. This book, written in a lively style, with great pre¬ 
tensions to secret information from manuscripts in the 
French king’s library, has more the resemblance of a ro¬ 
mance than of an authentic narrative; and if we may 
judge of the author’s private anecdotes, from his mis¬ 
representations and mistakes in matters of more general 
notoriety, we shall frequently be compelled to consider 
them rather as the offspring of his own imagination, than 
as substantiated facts. The absurdities of this author have 
frequently been exposed by Bayle , 7 who has in many instances 

6 Angeli Politiani Conjurationis Pactianae, anni 1478 Commentarimn, in eodem 
anno excusum, in 4to sine loci et typographi nominibus, iterum typis impressum 
Neapoli, anno 1769, cura et studio Joannis Adimari ex Marchionibus Bumbae. 

7 Dictionnaire Historique et Critique, Art. Politien, &c. 


PREFACE. 


Xlll 


pointed out his glaring perversions of the relations of 
Paulus Jovius, the veracity of whom as an historian is 
itself sufficiently equivocal. The accuracy of Varillas may 
in some degree be determined by the singular list of books 
and manuscripts from which he professes to have derived 
his information, the very existence of some of which yet 
rests on his own authority. 

Such, however, being the attempts that had been made 
to exhibit to the public the life and labours of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, T conceived that there could be no great degree of 
arrogance in endeavouring to give a more full and particular 
account of them: nor was I deterred from this undertaking 
by the consideration, that Providence had placed my lot 
beyond the limits of that favoured country, 

“ Ch’ Appenin parte, e ’1 mar circonda, e 1* Alpe.” 

The truth is, that even in a remote part of this remote 
kingdom, and deprived of the many advantages peculiar to 
seats of learning, I saw no difficulty in giving a more full, 
distinct, and accurate idea of the subject than could be 
collected from any performance I had then met with. Por 
some years past, the works of the Italian writers had 
amused a portion of my leisure hours; a partiality for any 
particular object generally awakens the desire of obtaining 
further information respecting it ; and from the perusal 
of the Italian poets, I was insensibly led to attend to the 
literary history of that cultivated nation. In tracing the 
rise of modern literature, I soon perceived that every thing 
great and excellent in science and in art, revolved round 
Lorenzo de’ Medici, during the short but splendid aera of 
his life, as a common centre, and derived from him its 


XIV 


PREFACE. 


invariable preservation and support.—Under these impres¬ 
sions I began to collect such scattered notices respecting 
him as fell in my way; and the Florentine histories of 
Machiavelli and Ammirato, the critical labours of Crescim- 
beni, Muratori, Bandini, and Tiraboschi, with other works 
of less importance, of which I then found myself possessed, 
supplied me with materials towards the execution of my 
plan. I had not, however, proceeded far, before I per¬ 
ceived that the subject deserved a more minute inquiry; 
for which purpose it would be necessary to resort to con¬ 
temporary authorities, and if possible, to original docu¬ 
ments. The impracticability of obtaining in this country the 
information of which I stood in need, would perhaps have 
damped the ardour of my undertaking, had not a circum¬ 
stance presented itself in the highest degree favourable to 
my purpose. An intimate friend, with whom I had been 
many years united in studies and affection, had paid a 
visit to Italy, and had fixed his winter residence at Flo¬ 
rence. I well knew that I had only to request" his assist¬ 
ance, in order to obtain whatever information he had an 
opportunity of procuring, from the very spot which was 
to be the scene of my intended history. My inquiries were 
particularly directed towards the Laurentian and Riccardi 
libraries, which I was convinced would afford much original 
and interesting information. It would be unjust merely to 
say that my friend afforded me the assistance I required; 
he went far beyond even the hopes I had formed, and his 
return to his native country was, if possible, rendered still 
more grateful to me, by the materials he had collected for 
my use. Amongst these I had the pleasure to find several 
beautiful poems of Lorenzo de’ Medici, the originals of 
which are deposited in the Laurentian library, although the 
former editors of his works appear not to have had the 


PREFACE. 


XV 


slightest information respecting them. These poems, which 
have been copied with great accuracy, and, where it was 
possible, collated with different manuscripts, will now for 
the first time be given to the public. The munificence 
of the late Grand Duke Leopold, and the liberality of the 
Marquis Riccardi, had opened the inestimable treasures of 
their collections to every inquirer. Under the regulations 
of the venerable Canonico Bandini, to whose labours the 
literary history of Italy is highly indebted, such arrange¬ 
ments have been adopted in the Laurentian library, that 
every difficulty which might retard research is effectually 
removed; and an institution founded by Cosmo, and pro¬ 
moted by Lorenzo de’ Medici, yet subsists, the noblest 
monument of their glory, the most authentic depository of 
their fame. 

Amongst a number of printed volumes, immediately or 
remotely connected with my principal subject, which were 
supplied by the attention of my friend, were two works 
of which he had given me previous information. These 
were the life of Lorenzo de 5 Medici, written in Latin, by 
Monsignor Fabroni, a learned Italian prelate, and published 
in the year 1784, in two volmnes in quarto; and the life of 
his grandfather Cosmo, by the same author, published in one 
volume in quarto in the year 1789. On receiving these 
extensive productions, it became a subject of consideration, 
whether it might not be advisable to lay aside my own 
narrative, although it was then far advanced, and satisfy 
myself with a translation of the former of these works, 
adding such remarks as my previous researches had enabled 
me to make. The perusal of these volumes, whilst it 
afforded me considerable gratification, soon however con¬ 
vinced me that the purpose I had in view could not be 


XVI 


PREFACE. 


obtained by a translation. The leading object of Fabroni 
is to illustrate the political, rather than the literary life of 
Lorenzo. It appeared to me, that the mere historical 
events of the fifteenth century, so far as they regarded 
Italy, could not deeply interest my countrymen in the 
eighteenth; but I conceived that the progress of letters 
and of arts would be attended to with pleasure in every 
country where they were cultivated and protected: many 
other motives, some of which will appear in the course of 
the work, determined me to prosecute my original plan : 
and the history now presented to the public bears no more 
resemblance to that of Fabroni, than his does to that of his 
predecessor Valori. The general incidents in the life of 
Lorenzo are indeed nearly the same in all; but for most 
of the sentiments and observations that may occur in the 
ensuing volume, and for a considerable part of the nar¬ 
rative, particularly such as relates to the state and pro¬ 
gress of letters and of arts, the responsibility must fall on 
myself. 

But although I have not thought it eligible to rest satis¬ 
fied with a mere translation of the works of Fabroni, I have 
derived from them very important assistance and informa¬ 
tion. The numerous and authentic documents which he 
obtained by diligent researches through the archives of 
Florence, and which occupy two thirds of his work, are 
a treasure, with which, in the infancy of my undertaking, 
I little expected to be gratified. The assistance derived 
from these sources did not, however, supersede my exertions 
in procuring such additional information as other parts of 
the continent and this country could supply. The Cre- 
venna library, lately exposed for sale at Amsterdam, and 
the Pinelly in London, furnished me with several publica- 


PREFACE. 


XVII 


tions of early date, for which I might otherwise long have 
inquired throughout Europe to no purpose. The rich and 
extensive catalogues published by Edwards, Payne, and 
other London booksellers, who have of late years diligently 
sought for and imported into England whatever is curious 
or valuable in foreign literature, have also contributed to 
the success of my inquiries; and I may justly say, that I 
have spared neither trouble nor expense in the acquisition 
of whatever appeared to be necessary to the prosecution of 
my work. 

When the first of these volumes was nearly printed, and 
the materials arranged for the second, I had the satisfaction 
of obtaining a copy of a very singular and interesting work, 
entitled Memoires Genealogiques de la Maison de Medici. 
For this performance I am indebted to the Marquis of 
Lansdown ; a nobleman who has conferred the most im¬ 
portant benefits on this country, and whose attention has 
been invariably directed to the encouragement of those 
studies, which can only produce their proper fruits in that 
state of public tranquillity, which his distinguished talents 
have been uniformly exerted to secure. 

The work above mentioned is the production of Mr. 
Tenhove of the Hague, a near relation of the late Greffier 
of the states of Holland, Mr. Fagel, to whose memory it 
is inscribed;—but alas ! the monument which affection 
had devoted to the memory of a friend, was itself des¬ 
tined to remain unfinished; and the accomplished author, 
by a fatality which will perhaps remind my readers of the 
events related in the last chapter of this history, whilst he 
lamented the loss of his patron, was called to join him, in 
the society of the wise, the learned, and the good of former 


XV111 


PREFACE. 


ages—in that of Scipio and of Lselius, of Politiano and of 
Lorenzo de’ Medici. 

Inter odoratum Lauri nemus, unde superne 
Plurimus Eridani per silvam volvitur amnis. 

Although the volumes of Mr. Tenhove appear to be rather 
the amusement of the leisure hours of a polite scholar, than 
the researches of a professed historian, yet they display an 
acquaintance with the transactions of Italy, seldom acquired 
except by a native. To a great proficiency in the literature 
of that country, Mr. Tenhove united an indisputable taste 
in the productions of all the fine arts, and a general know¬ 
ledge of the state of manners, and the progress of science, 
in every period of society. The fertility of his genius, and 
the extent of his information, have enabled him to inter¬ 
sperse his narrative with a variety of interesting digressions 
and brilliant observations.; and the most engaging work 
that has perhaps ever appeared, on a subject of literary 
history, is written by a native of one country, in the lan¬ 
guage of another, on the affairs of a third. 8 

Excellent, however, as the work of Mr. Tenhove certainly 
is, I have not derived from it any very important assist¬ 
ance ; which will be more readily credited, when it is un¬ 
derstood that it commences with the history of the family 
of the Medici in remote antiquity, and adverting to every 
member of it, of whom any historical notices remain, was 
intended to be continued down to the present century. 
The interval of time which I have undertaken to illustrate, 
extending only to the life of an individual, who died at an 
early age, must consequently form a small portion in a 

8 This work has since been translated into English with notes and observations by 
Sir Richard Clayton, Bart., and published in two vols. quarto, London, 1797. 


PREFACE. 


XIX 


work intended to embrace such an extent of time, yet not 
upon the whole more voluminous than my own. The 
character of Lorenzo is indeed finely conceived, and faith¬ 
fully drawn by Mr. Tenhove; and his accomplishments are 
celebrated with a warmth of expression, which proves that 
the author was fully sensible of his genius and his merits. 
But it was not consistent with the plan that he had adopted, 
to enter into those particular inquiries, and more minute 
discussions, which the duty of a professed biographer re¬ 
quires. Prom this circumstance, and the advanced state of 
my work, I was not induced to make any alteration 'either 
in its arrangement or in the manner of its execution. After 
having proceeded so far in the character of a simple relater 
of facts, it would indeed ill become me to aim at the higher 
ornaments of composition. 


Servitur ad imum 
Qualis ab incepto processerit. 


The motives which have encouraged me to persevere in 
this undertaking, amidst numerous avocations and duties 
which connect me with society by almost every tie, have 
been a high admiration of the character of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, the singular pleasure which I have enjoyed in 
tracing his history, and the earnest desire which I feel, to 
place him in that rank in the estimation of my countrymen, 
to which he is so eminently entitled. 

I am not, however, arrogant enough to suppose, that I 
have been able to do justice to so extensive and diversified 
a subject. Precluded by more serious and indispensable 
avocations from devoting to it a continued attention, I 
am apprehensive that facts of importance may either have 


XX 


TREFACE. 


escaped my diligence, or may be imperfectly related. The 
difficulties attending a critical examination of works of 
taste, written in a foreign language, contribute to render 
me diffident of the success of my labours. In the few 
attempts to translate the poetical pieces of Lorenzo and his 
contemporaries, I must regret my inability to do them 
more complete justice; an inability of which I am fully 
sensible, but for which I do not mean to trouble my reader 
with any further apology. Such as it is, I submit this 
performance to the judgment of the public: ready to ac¬ 
knowledge, though not pleased to reflect, that the disad¬ 
vantages under which an author labours are no excuse for 
the imperfections of his work. 


ENGRAVINGS 


TO THE 


LIFE OF LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


The Vignettes at the head and tail of each Chapter were designed from 
ancient medals and other authentic sources, and accompanied the original 
quarto edition, but were omitted in the subsequent ones. The publisher 
considers them interesting as historical illustrations, and restores them to the 
present edition with the view of adding to its completeness. 


Portrait of Lorenzo de’ Medici, engraved by Haughton, from the museum of 
Giovan Battista Dei, at Plorence. I have preferred this portrait to that 
published by Pabroni, after Ghirlandajo, as bearing a greater resemblance 
to the medallions that remain of Lorenzo, and as being more conformable 
to the description of his person by Valori and others. To face the Title. 

Portrait of William Boscoe, setat. 38, engraved by W. E. Edwards, from a 
painting by John Williamson. To face the Preface. 

Portrait of Lorenzo de’ Medici, from a bust by Michael Angelo. To face page 1. 

Chapter, I., page 1. Portrait of Cosmo de’ Medici, from Pontormo. The 
Emblem in the reverse was adopted by Cosmo in reference to the death 
of his son Giovanni de’ Medici, in 1461, and the hopes he entertained 
from his surviving offspring. 

Chapter I., page 43. Cosmo de’ Medici, with his son Piero, and his grand¬ 
sons Lorenzo and Giuliano, from a picture of Erancesco Peselli in the 
Liverpool Royal Institution. 

Chapter II., page 44. Medal of Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta. 

Chapter II., page 77. The Giostra or Tournament of Lorenzo, from the an¬ 
cient edition of the poem on that subject by Luca Pulci. 

Chapter III., page 78. Portrait of Giuliano de’ Medici, with his seal, as 
preserved in the Strozzi Library. 

Chapter III., page 110. View of the Medici Palace, built by Michelozzi. 




ENGRAVINGS. 


Chapter IV., page 111. Medal struck by Antonio Pollajuolo on the Conspiracy 
of the Pazzi. 

Chapter IV., page 150. The same subject. 

Chapter V., page 151. Medallion of Luigi Pulci. 

Chapter V., page 203. A Bacchanalian scene from an Antique Gem in the 
Museum Florentinum, in allusion to the Canti Carnascialeschi. 

Chapter VI., page 204. Medallion of Lorenzo, with the emblem of Florence 
in the reverse, as given by Adrinari in his edition of the Comment. 
Conjur. Pactianse of Politiano, Napoli, 1769. 

Chapter VI., page 286. Arms of the Medici family. 

Chapter VII., page 237. Medallion of Politiano with the emblem of Study as 
the reverse. 

Chapter VII., page 277. The device assumed by Lorenzo de’ Medici. 

Chapter VIII., page 278. The fable of Ambra, as carved on an Amber 
Fiaschetto, from the original, formerly belonging to Lorenzo de’ Medici. 

Chapter VIII., page 315. The same subject. 

Chapter IX., page 316. Portrait of Michelagnolo Buonarotti, from the ori¬ 
ginal print of Giulio Bonasoni, published by Gori, in his edition of the 
life of Michelagnolo, by Condivi, Flor. 1746, where the editor has erro¬ 
neously attributed it to Giulio Romano. 

Chapter IX., page 334. Catafalque erected on the burial of Michelagnolo. 

Chapter IX., page 348. The arms of the Medici family. 

Chapter X., page 349. Portrait of Leo X. after Raffaello, with his arms and 
pontifical emblems. 

Appendix, page 504. Canzoni a Ballo. 














- p 

'* 

. 
















.. 






f" 












Drawn, 3c Engraved "by Edw. Smith. 



* 






























































































































































































































CHAPTER I. 


1448—1464. 


Origin of Florence — Government—Family of the Medici—Salvestro de' Medici — 
Giovanni de’ Medici—Cosmo de' Medici—Influence of that family in Florence — 
Cosmo seized and imprisoned—Is banished to Padua—Allowed to reside at Venice 
—Ambrogio Tr aver sari—Cosmo is recalled from banishment—Encourages men of 
learning—Leonardo and Carlo Aretino—Researches after the writings of the 
ancients—Poggio Bracciolini—Guarino Veronese—Giovanni Aurispa—Francesco 
Filelfo—Council of Florence—Revival of the Platonic Philosophy—Marsilio 
Ficino—Cosmo establishes the Laurentian Library—Niccolo Niccoli—Founds the 
Library of S. Marco—The Vatican Library founded by Pope Nicholas V. — Inven¬ 
tion and progress of the art of Printing—Capture of Constantinople by the Turks 
—Cosmo applies himself to study—Marriage of Piero de' Medici—Birth of Lorenzo 
and Giuliano—Celebrity of Cosmo—Antonio Beccatelli—Literary Quarrels — 
Bessarion and George of Trebisond—Poggio and Filelfo—Death and character of 
Cosmo de' Medici. 


Florence lias been remarkable in modern history for the 
frequency and violence of its internal dissensions, and for 
the predilection of its inhabitants for every species of sci¬ 
ence, and every production of art. However discordant 
these characteristics may appear, it is not difficult to recon¬ 
cile them. The same active spirit that calls forth the 
talents of individuals for the preservation of their liberties, 
and resists with unconquerable resolution whatever is sup¬ 
posed to infringe them; in the moments of domestic peace 
and security seeks with avidity other objects of employ¬ 
ment. The defence of freedom has always been found to 
expand and strengthen the mind; and though the faculties 
of the human race may remain torpid for generations, when 

1 








THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 


once roused into action they cannot speedily be lulled again 
into inactivity and repose. 

Of the rise of Florence little can be traced with certainty, 
although much research has been employed on 
r?ncf. inofF1 ° the subject. If we give credit to its historian 
Machiavelli, it derives its origin from the ancient 
and venerable city of Fiesole, whose walls yet remain at the 
distance of about three miles from Florence. The situation 
of Fiesole, on the summit of a steep hill, induced its inha¬ 
bitants, many of whom were early devoted to commerce, 
to erect habitations for the convenience of traffic on the 
plain below, between the river Amo and the foot of the 
mountain. During the continuance of the Roman republic 
this infant establishment was reinforced by colonists from 
Rome. The popular tradition of the place, countenanced 
by Landino 1 and Verini, 2 refers this event to the times of 
the dictatorship of Sylla, whilst Politiano places it under 
the triumvirate of Octavius, Antonius, and Lepidus. 8 

In the frequent irrruptions of the northern nations that 
subverted the Roman state, Florence followed the fate of 
the rest of Italy; but about the year 1010 it had acquired 
some degree of strength and independence, which was first 
exerted in attacking and demolishing the place from which 
it sprung. Fiesole retains few traces of its former import¬ 
ance : but its delightful situation and pure air still render 
it an agreeable and healthy residence. 

For some centuries previous to the commencement of the 
Government P resen ^ history, the government of Florence had 
fluctuated between an aristocratic and a popular 
- form. The discord and animosity that arose from this 
instability may well be conceived. When either of the 
contending factions had obtained the ascendency, the lead¬ 
ers of it soon disagreed in the exercise of their power; and 
the weaker party, attaching themselves to the body of the 
people, speedily effected a revolution. The frequency of 

1 Landinus de Laudibus Cosmi, ap. Bandinii Specimen Literature Florentine, 
vol. i. pp. 102, 167. 

2 Ugolinus Verinus de Illustratione Urbis Florentie. Flor. 1636. lib. i. p. 9. 

3 For many curious observations and learned conjectures on the origin of Fiesole 
and Florence, v. Politiani Ep. lib. i. ep. 2. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


3 


1448.] 

electing their magistrates, at the same time that it was 
favourable to the preservation of their liberties, fomented 
a continual spirit of opposition and resentment. A secret 
enmity, even in the most tranquil days of the republic, 
subsisted among the leaders of the different factions, and 
the slightest circumstance, whether of a foreign or domes¬ 
tic nature, was sufficient to kindle the latent spark into an 
open flame. The contests between the Ghibellini and the 
Guelfi , 4 and between the Bianchi and the Neri , 5 were 
entered into by the Florentines with an eagerness beyond 
that of any other people in Europe. For a great length 
of time Florence was at continual war with itself; and a 
nmnber of citizens, under the name of Fuorusciti , or refu¬ 
gees, were constantly employed in attempting to regain 
their native residence, for which purpose they scrupled not, 
by all possible means, to excite the resentment of other 
powers against it. If their attempts proved successful, the 
weaker party left the city, till they in their turn could expel 
their conquerors. 


4 This distinction began about the twelfth century. In the dissensions between 
the pope and the emperor, the partisans of the former were denominated Guelphs, 
and those of the imperial faction Ghibelines; but in succeeding times these appella¬ 
tions conveyed other ideas, and the name of Guelphs was applied to those who, in 
any popular commotion, espoused the cause of the people, whilst that of Ghibelines 
became synonymous to the optimates of the Romans, or Aristocrates. Ammirato, 
without being able to trace the origin, pathetically laments the unhappy consequences 
of these distinctions to his country. Istoria Fiorentina, vol. i. pp. 55, 132. But the 
particular circumstances which introduced them into Florence are related at consi¬ 
derable length by Nerli. Commentarii de’ fatti civili di Firenze. Augs. 1728, 
p. 2, &c. 

5 For these factions Italy was indebted to the city of Pistoia, where a disagreement 
took place between two young men of the family of Cancellieri, one of whom is called 
by Machiavelli, Geri, and the other, Lore. In this contest Geri received a slight blow 
from his relation, who immediately afterwards, at the command of his father Gulielmo, 
went to the house of Bertuccio, the father of Geri, to apologize for the offence. 
Bertuccio, exasperated at the indignity, seized the young man, and with the assist¬ 
ance of two of his servants, cruelly cut off his hand on a manger. This atrocious 
deed roused the resentment of Gulielmo, who took up arms to revenge the injury. 
Cancellieri the common ancestor of the family had two wives, from one of whom 
descended the line of Gulielmo, from the other that of Bertuccio. One of these 
wives was named Bianca, whence that branch of their family and their adherents - 
were named Bianchi, and their opponents, by way of distinction, obtained the 
name of Neri. The whole city espoused the part of one or other of these factions, 
and the contagion soon spread to Florence, where it received fresh vigour from the 
ancient dissensions of the Cerchi and the Donati. The quarrel shortly became tinc¬ 
tured with political enmity, and the Bianchi were considered as Ghibelines, the Neri 
as Guelphs. Mac. 1st. Fior. lib. ii. Amm. 1st. Fior. vol. i. p. 204. 


4 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

These disadvantages were however amply compensated 
by the great degree of freedom enjoyed by the citizens of 
Florence, which had the most favourable effects on their 
character, and gave them a decided superiority over the 
inhabitants of the rest of Italy. The popular nature of the 
government, not subjected to the will of an individual, as 
in many of the surrounding states, nor restricted, like that 
of Venice, to a particular class, was a constant incitement 
to exertion. Nor was it only on the great body of the 
people that the good effects of this system were apparent; 
even those who claimed the privileges of ancestry, felt the 
advantages of a rivalship which prevented their sinking into 
indolence, and called upon them to support, by their own 
talents, the rank and influence which they had derived from 
those of their ancestors. Where the business of govern¬ 
ment is confined to a few, the faculties of the many become 
torpid for want of exercise; but in Florence, every citizen 
was conversant with, and might hope, at least, to partake in 
the government; and hence was derived that spirit of in¬ 
dustry, which, in the pursuit of wealth and the extension of 
commerce was, amidst all their intestine broils, so conspi¬ 
cuous and so successful. The fatigues of public life, and 
the cares of mercantile avocations, were alleviated at times 
by the study of literature or the speculations of philosophy. 
A rational and dignified employment engaged those mo¬ 
ments of leisure not necessarily devoted to more important 
concerns, and the mind was relaxed without being debili¬ 
tated, and amused without being depraved. The superi¬ 
ority which the Florentines thus acquired was universally 
acknowledged, and they became the historians, the poets, 
the orators, and the preceptors of Europe. 6 
V The family of the Medici had for many ages been es¬ 
teemed one of the most considerable in the re- 
MedTd. yof the public ; nor have there been wanting authors who 
have derived its eminence from the age of Charle¬ 
magne : but it must be remembered, that these genealogies 
have been the production of subsequent times, when the ele- 


6 V. Illustrations of the Life of Lor. de’ Medici, p. 76. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 




1448 .] 


vation of this family to the supreme command in Florence, 
made it necessary to impress on the minds of the people an 
idea of its antiquity and respectability. 7 It appears, how¬ 
ever, from authentic monuments, that many individuals of 
this family had signalised themselves on hnportant occasions. 
Giovanni de’ Medici, in the year 13 51, 8 with a body of 
only one hundred Florentines, forced his way through the 
Milanese army, then besieging the fortress of Scarperia, 
and entered the place with the loss of twenty lives. 

Salvestro de’ Medici acquired great reputation by his 
temperate but firm resistance to the tyranny of 
the nobles, 9 who, in order to secure their power, M edid. stro de * 
accused those who opposed them of being attached 
to the party of the Ghibelines, then in great odium at Flo¬ 
rence. The persons so accused were said to be admonished, 
ammoniti , and by that act were excluded from all offices of 
government. This custom was at length carried to such 
an extreme as to become insufferable. In the year 1379, 
Salvestro, being chosen chief magistrate, exerted his power 
in reforming this abuse; which was not however effected 
without a violent commotion, in which several of the nobi¬ 
lity lost their lives. After the death of Salvestro, his son, 
Veri de 5 Medici, continued to hold a high rank in the re- 


7 In a MS. of the Riccardi library at Florence, of which I have obtained an ample 
extract, entitled “ Origine e descendenza della casa de’ Medici,” the origin of the family 
greatness is romantically referred to Averardo de’ Medici, a commander under Charle¬ 
magne, who for his valour in destroying the gigantic plunderer Mugello, by whom 
the surrounding country was laid waste, was honoured with the privilege of bearing 
for his arms six palle, or balls, as characteristic of the iron balls that hung from the 
mace of his fierce antagonist, the impression of which remained on his shield. 
Verini had before this accounted for the family name and arms by another hereditary 
tale. 

“ Est qui Bebryaca Medices testetur ab urbe 
Venisse; et Toscam sobolem delesse superbam 
Asserat: hinc Medicis meruit cognomen habere 
Quod Medicus Tosci fuerit, sic ore venenum 
Dixerunt patrio: factique insignia portet 
Senis in globulis flaventem sanguine peltam.” 

Ver. de Illust. Urbis, lib. iii. 

It required some ingenuity to invalidate so strong a presumption of the ancient 
family profession, as arises from the name of Medici, and the six pills borne as their 
device. 

8 V. Illustrations of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 78. 

9 Razzi. vita di Salvestro de’ Medici. Flor. 1580. Amm. 1st. Fior. vol. ii. pp. 716, 
717. 


THE LIFE OF 


6 


[CH. I. 


public, and, like the rest of this family, was always in great 
favour with the populace. 

jq The person, however, who may be said to have laid the 
foundation of that greatness which his posterity 
Medid? nni de> enjoyed for several ages, was Giovanni de Medici, 
the great grandfather of Lorenzo, the subject of 
our present history. By a strict attention to commerce, he 
acquired immense wealth; by his affability, moderation, and 
liberality, he ensured the confidence and esteem of his fellow- 
citizens. Without seeking after the offices of the republic, 
he was honoured with them all. The maxims which, uni¬ 
formly pursued, raised the house of Medici to the splendour 
which it afterwards enjoyed, are to be found in the charge 
given by this venerable old man on his death-bed to his 
two sons, Cosmo and Lorenzo: “ I feel,” said he, “ that 
I have lived the time prescribed me. I die content; leav¬ 
ing you, my sons, in affluence and in health, and in such 
a station, that whilst you follow my example, you may live 
in your native place honoured and respected. Nothing 
affords me more pleasure, than the reflection that my con¬ 
duct has not given offence to any one; but that, on the 
contrary, I have endeavoured to serve all persons to the 
best of my abilities. I advise you to do the same. With 
respect to the honours of the state, if you would live with 
security, accept only such as are bestowed on you by the 
laws, and the favour of your fellow-citizens; for it is the 
exercise of that power which is obtained by violence, and 
not of that which is voluntarily given, that occasions hatred 
and contention.” He died in the year 1428, leaving two 
sons, Cosmo, born in the year 1389, and Lorenzo in 1394, 
from the latter of whom is derived the collateral branch 
of the family, which, in the beginning of the sixteenth 
century, obtained the absolute sovereignty of Tuscany. 10 
Even in the lifetime of his father, Cosmo had engaged 
cosmo de* hbnself deeply, not only in the extensive com- 
Me A S D ‘mm merce by which the family had acquired its wealth, 
but in the weightier concerns of government. 

10 At the instance of the two brothers, Donatello the sculptor erected a monument 
to the memory of their father Giovanni de’ Medici, and their mother Piccarda, which 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


7 


1448 .] 

Such was his authority and reputation, and that in the year 
1414, when Balthasar Cossa, who had been elected pope, 
and had assumed the name of John XXIII. was summoned 
to attend the council of Constance, he chose to be accom¬ 
panied by Cosmo de’ Medici, amongst other men of 
eminence whose characters might countenance his cause. 
By this council, which continued nearly four years, Bal¬ 
thasar was deprived of his pontifical dignity, and Otto Co- 
lonna, who took the name of Martin Y. was elected pope. 
Divested of his authority, and pursued by his numerous ad¬ 
versaries, Balthasar endeavoured to save himself by flight. 
Cosmo did not desert in adversity the man to whom he had 
attached himself in prosperity. At the expense of a large 
sum of money, he redeemed him from the hands of the 
duke of Bavaria, who had seized upon his person; and 
afterwards gave him an hospitable shelter at Florence during 
the remainder of his life. Nor did the successful pontiff 
resent the kindness shown to his rival; on the contrary, he 
soon afterwards paid a public visit to Florence, where, on 
the formal submission of Balthasar, and at the request of 
the Medici, he created him a cardinal, with the privilege of 
taking the first place in the sacred college. The new-made 
cardinal did not long survive this honour. He died in the 
year 1419, and it was supposed, that the Medici at his 
death possessed themselves of immense riches, which he had 
acquired during his pontificate. 11 This notion was after¬ 
wards encouraged, for malevolent purposes, by those who 

yet remains in the church of S. Lorenzo at Florence; on one side of which is the 
following inscription : 

“ Si merita in patriam, si gloria, sanguis, et omni 
Larga manus, nigra libera morte forent, 

Viveret heu! patriae casta cum conjuge felix, 

Auxilium miseris portus et aura suis; 

Omnia sed quando superantur morte, Johannes 
Hoc mausoleo, tuque Piccarda, jaces: 

Ergo senex moeret, juvenis, puer, omnis et aetas, 

Orba parente suo patria mcesta gemit.” 

On the other side: 

“ Cosmus et Laurentius de Medicis, viro clarissimo, Johanni Averardi filio et Pic- 
cardae Adovardi filiae carissimis parentibus hoc sepulcrum faciendum curarunt. 
Obiit autem Johannes x. Kal. Martii, mccccxxviii. Piccarda vero xm. Kal. Maii 
quinquennio post e vita migravit.” 

11 Platina, in vita di Martino V. But this is confuted by Ammirato, who has cited 
the testament of Balthasar, by which it appears that he was doubtful whether his 


8 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

well knew its falsehood. 12 &The true source of the wealth of 
the Medici, was their superior talents and application to 
commerce. The property of the cardinal was scarcely suffi- - 
cient to discharge his legacies and his debts. 

After the death of Giovanni de 5 Medici, Cosmo supported 
and increased the family dignity. His conduct was uni¬ 
formly marked by urbanity and kindness to the superior 
ranks of his fellow-citizens, and by a constant attention to 
the interests and wants of the lower class, whom he relieved 
with unbounded generosity. By these means he acquired 
numerous and zealous partisans, of every denomination; 
but he rather considered them as pledges for the continu¬ 
ance of the power he possessed, than as instruments to be 
employed in extending it to the ruin and subjugation of the 
state. “ No family, 55 says Voltaire, “ ever obtained its 
power by so just a title.’ 5 

The authority which Cosmo and his descendants exercised 
influence of 111 Florence during the fifteenth century, was of a 
the Medici in very peculiar nature; and consisted rather in a tacit 
influence on their part, and a voluntary acquies¬ 
cence on that of the people, than in any prescribed or defi- / 
nite compact between them. The form of government was 
ostensibly a republic, and was directed by a council of ten 
citizens, and a chief executive officer called the Gonfaloniere, 
or standard-bearer, who was chosen every two months. 
Under this establishment the citizens imagined they en¬ 
joyed the full exercise of their liberties; but such was the 
power of the Medici, that they generally either assumed to 
themselves the first offices of the state, or nominated such 
persons as they thought proper to those employments. In 
this, however, they paid great respect to popular opinion. 
That opposition of interests so generally apparent between 
the people and their rulers, was at this time scarcely 

property would extend to pay the legacies he had bequeathed. To the altar of 
St. John the Baptist he gave a finger of that saint, which he had long carried secretly 
about his person. Amm. 1st. Fior. vol. ii. p. 1047. 

12 The malice and virulence of Filelfo led him to accuse the Medici of having 
poisoned Balthasar, in order to obtain possession of his property; but this is suffi¬ 
ciently refuted by the slightest acquaintance with the characters of the accuser and 
the accused, to say nothing of the irrefragable testimony of Balthasar's will, above 
referred to, of which Giovanni de’ Medici was one of the' trustees. 


LORENZO BE’ MEDICI. 


9 


1448.] 


perceived at Florence, where superior qualifications and in¬ 
dustry were the surest recommendations to public authority 
and favour. Convinced of the benefits constantly received 
from this family, and satisfied that they could at any time 
withdraw themselves from a connexion that exacted no en¬ 
gagements, and required only a temporary acquiescence, the 
Florentines considered the Medici as the fathers, and not as o 
the rulers of the republic. On the other hand, the chiefs 
of this house, by appearing rather to decline than to court 
the honours bestowed on them, and by a singular modera¬ 
tion in the use of them when obtained, were careful to main¬ 
tain the character of simple citizens of Florence, and ser¬ 
vants of the state. An interchange of reciprocal good 
offices was the only tie by which the Florentines and the 
Medici were bound, and perhaps the long continuance of 
this connexion may be attributed to the very circumstance 
of its having been in the power of either of the parties, at 
any time, to dissolve it. 

But the prudence and moderation of Cosmo, though they 
soothed the jealous apprehensions of the Floren- cogmo se . zed 
tines, could not at all times repress the ambi- and imprison- 
tious designs of those who wished to possess or ed ; D 1433 
to share his authority. In the year 1483, Ri- 
naldo de’ Albizi, at the head of a powerful party, carried 
the appointment of the magistracy. At that time Cosmo 
had withdrawn to his seat at Mugello, where he had 
remained some months, in order to avoid the disturbances 
that he saw were likely to ensue ; 13 but at the request 
of his friends he returned to Florence, where he was led to 
expect that an union of the different parties would be 
effected, so as to preserve the peace of the city. In this ex¬ 
pectation he was however disappointed. No sooner did he 

13 For some time before the close of the 14th century, it became a custom amongst 
the chiefs of this family to keep private memorials of the circumstances attending it. 
These memorials, or Ricordi, were begun by Filigno de’ Medici, who in the year 1373, 
entered, in a book yet extant, and entitled “ Notizie della famiglia de’ Medici,” some 
information respecting its wealth, population, and respectability. (Appendix, No. I.) 
Cosmo continued the practice, and in particular has left a very minute account of the 
circumstances attending his banishment and return, which greatly differs in many 
respects from the narrative of Machiavelli. (Append. No. II.) The Ricordi of Lorenzo 
also remain, and afford much indisputable information on the principal events of his 


10 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

make his appearance in the palace, where his presence had 
been requested on pretence of his being intended to share 
in the administration of the republic, than he was seized 
upon by his adversaries, and committed to the custody of 
Federigo Malavolti. He remained in this situation for seve¬ 
ral days, in constant apprehension of some violence being 
offered to his person; but he still more dreaded that the 
malice of his enemies might attempt his life by poison. 
During four days, a small portion of bread was the only 
food which he thought proper to take. 

The generosity of his keeper at length relieved him from 
this state of anxiety. In order to induce him to 
to Padua. ' shed take his food with confidence, Malavolti partook 
of it with him. 14 In the mean time, his brother 
Lorenzo, and his cousin Averardo, having raised a consider¬ 
able body of men from Romagna and other neighbouring 
parts, and being joined by Niccolo Tolentino, the com¬ 
mander of the troops of the republic, approached towards 
Florence to his relief; but the apprehensions that in case 
they resorted to open violence, the life of Cosmo might be 
endangered, induced them to abandon their enterprise. At 
length Rinaldo and his adherents obtained a decree of the 
magistracy against the Medici and their friends, by which 
Cosmo was banished to Padua for ten years, Lorenzo to 
Venice for five years, and several of their relations and ad¬ 
herents were involved in a similar punishment. Cosmo 
would gladly have left the city pursuant to his sentence, but 
his enemies thought it more advisable to retain him till they 
had established their authority; and they frequently gave 
him to understand, that if his friends raised any opposition 
to their measures, his life should answer it. He also sus¬ 
pected that another reason for his detention was to ruin him 
in his credit and circumstances; his mercantile concerns 

14 The address of Malavolti to Cosmo on this occasion, as related by Machiavelli, is 
full of kindness and humanity. “ Tu dubiti, Cosimo, di non essere avvelenato, et fai 
te morire di fame e poco honore a me, credendo ch’ io volessi tener le mani a una 
simile sceleratezza. Io non credi che tu habbi a perdere la vita, tanti amici hai in 
palagio, et fuori; ma quando pure avessi a perderla, vivo sicuro che pigliaranno altri 
modi che usar me, per ministro a tortela: perche io non voglio bruttarmi le mani nel 
sangue d’ alcuno, e massime del tuo che non mi offendesti raai,” &c. Mac. 1st. Fior. 
lib. iv. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


11 


1448.] 


being then greatly extended. As soon as these disturbances 
were known, several of the states of Italy interfered in his 
behalf. Three ambassadors arrived from Venice, who pro¬ 
posed to take him under their protection, and to engage 
that he should strictly submit to the sentence imposed on 
him. The Marquis of Ferrara also gave a similar proof of 
his attachment. Though their interposition was not imme¬ 
diately successful, it was of great importance to Cosmo, and 
secured him from the attempts of those who aimed at his 
life. After a confinement of nearly a month, some of his 
friends, finding in his adversaries a disposition to gentler 
measures took occasion to forward his cause by the timely 
application of a sum of money to Bernardo Guadagni, the 
Gonfaloniere, and to Mariotto Baldovinetti, two of the 
creatures of Rinaldo. This measure was successful. He 
was privately taken from his confinement by night, and led 
out of Florence. For this piece of service Guadagni re¬ 
ceived one thousand florins, and Baldovinetti eight hundred. 
“ They were poor souls/’ says Cosmo, in his Ricordi; “ for 
if money had been their object, they might have had ten 
thousand, or more, to have freed me from the perils of such 
a situation.” 15 

From Florence, Cosmo proceeded immediately towards 
Venice, and at every place through which he Isallowedto 
passed, experienced the most flattering attention, ^side at ve- 
and the warmest expressions of regard. On his 
approach to that city he was met by his brother Lorenzo, 
and many of his friends, and was received by the senate 
with such honours as were bestowed by that stately republic 
only on persons of the highest quality and distinction. After 
a short stay there, he went to Padua, the place prescribed 
for his banishment; but on an application to the Florentine 
state, by Andrea Donato, the Venetian ambassador, he was 

15 Machiavelli ascribes the liberation of Cosmo to the interference and assistance 
of Fargonaccio, a buffoon, who was admitted by Malavolti to visit Cosmo during his 
confinement, and was employed by him in negotiating with the chiefs of the opposite 
faction for his deliverance. Varillas has ornamented the same story, according to his 
manner, with an infinite number of particulars. In the narrative that I have given, I 
have thought proper to discard these dubious accounts, and to adhere to the authentic 
relation of Cosmo himself; who adverts to no such circumstance, but on the con¬ 
trary expressly states by whose assistance the money was paid. 


12 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

permitted to reside on any part of the Venetian territories, 
but not to approach within the distance of one hundred and 
seventy miles from Florence. The affectionate reception 
which he had met with at Venice induced him to fix his 
abode there, until a change of circumstances should restore 
him to his native country. 

Amongst the several learned and ingenious men that ac¬ 
companied Cosmo in his banishment, or resorted to him 
during his stay at Venice, was Michellozzo Michellozzi, a 
Florentine sculptor and architect, whom Cosmo employed 
in making models and drawings of the most remarkable 
buildings in Venice, and also in forming a library in the 
monastery of St. George , 16 which he enriched with many 
valuable manuscripts, and left as an honourable monument 
of his gratitude, to a place that had afforded him so kind an 
asylum in his adversity . 17 

During his residence at Venice, Cosmo also received fre¬ 
quent visits from Ambrogio Traversari, a learned 
Traversarf ' 0 monk of Camaldoli, near Florence , 18 and after¬ 
wards superior of the monastery at that place. 
Though chiefly confined within the limits of a cloister, Tra¬ 
versari had, perhaps, the best pretensions to the character of 
a polite scholar of any man of that age. From the letters 
of Traversari, now extant, we learn that Cosmo and his 
brother not only bore their misfortunes with firmness, but 
continued to express on every occasion an inviolable attach¬ 
ment to their native place. 


16 Vasari, Vite de’ Pittori, vol. i, p. 339. Ed. Flor. 1568. 

17 This library existed till the year 1614, when, in consequence of the mo¬ 
nastery being rebuilt, it was destroyed, and the books it contained are supposed 
to have perished. Tiraboschi, Storia della Letteratura Italiana, vol. vi. parte i. 

p. 102. 

18 Ambrogio was horn in 1386, and was a native of Forli, but is usually ranked 
amongst the eminent men of Florence, where he was educated, and where he princi¬ 
pally resided. So complete was his knowledge of the Greek language, that in the 
council of Florence he acted as interpreter between the Italians and the Greeks. His 
translation of Diogenes Laertius, inscribed by him to Cosmo de’ Medici, and first 
printed at Venice, by Nicolas Jenson, in 1475, lias been several times reprinted. Tra¬ 
versari has had the good fortune to meet with a biographer and annotator in the learned 
Mehus, who has done justice to the subject, and made his life and writings the vehicle 
of much curious and useful information. It is only to be regretted that this extensive 
and valuable work is not better arranged. Amb. Traversarii Lat. Ep. &c. 2 vols. fol. 
Flor. 1759. 


1448 .] LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 13 

The readiness with which Cosmo had given way to tem¬ 
porary clamour raised against him, and the reluct- Cosmo . s re _ 
ance which he had shown to renew those bloody caned from ba- 
rencounters that had so often disgraced the streets ment ‘ 
of Florence, gained him new friends. The utmost exertions 
of his antagonists could not long prevent the choice of such 
magistrates as were known to be attached to the cause of 
the Medici ; and no sooner did they enter on their office, 
than Cosmo and his brother were recalled, and Rinaldo, 
with his adherents, were compelled to quit the city . 19 This 
event took place about the expiration of twelve months from 
the time of Cosmo’s banishment . 20 

From this time the life of Cosmo de’ Medici was an 
almost uninterrupted series of prosperity. The Encourages 
tranquillity enjoyed by the republic, and the satis- men of ieam- 
faction and peace of mind which he experienced ing * 
in the esteem and confidence of his fellow-citizens, enabled 
him to indulge his natural propensity to the promotion of 
science, and the encouragement of learned men. The study 
of the Greek language had been introduced into Italy, prin¬ 
cipally by the exertions of the celebrated Boccaccio , 21 towards 
the latter part of the preceding century, but on the death 
of that great promoter of letters it again fell into neglect. 
After a short interval, another attempt was made to revive it 
by the intervention of Emanuel Chrysoloras, a noble Greek, 
who, during the interval of his important embassies, taught 
that language at Florence and other cities of Italy, about 
the beginning of the fifteenth century. His disciples were 
numerous and respectable. Amongst others of no inconsi- 


19 V. Illustrations of Lor. de’ Medici, p. 81. 

20 The attachment of the populace to the Medici is strikingly described by Poggio. 
‘ Itaque indicta populi concione, quanta alacritate, Diihoni, quanta exultatione, quanto 
gaudio, quanto studio, etiam infirmorum concursus est ad Palatium factus, omnium 
aetatum, ordinum, nationum! Nemo non solum civem se, sed ne hominem quidem 
arbitrabatur, qui non huic causae interesset, qui non manu, voce, vultus, denique ac 
gestus significatione faveret. Existimabant omnes non de tua, sed de publica salute 
agi, non de privata unius domo, sed de communi omnium causa certari.” Poggii Ep. 
340. Ed. Basil. 1538. 

21 Boccaccio is not only entitled to the honour of having introduced into Italy the 
study of the Greek language, hut of paving preserved and restored what constitutes 
its greatest glory—the writings of Homer. Bocc. Genealogia Deorum, lib. xv. cap. 7. 
Ed. 1481. 


14 THE LIFE OF [CH. I. 

derable note, were Ambrogio Traversari, Leonardo Bruni, 22 
Carlo Marsuppini, 23 the two latter of whom were 
carlo*Amhu>! natives of Arezzo, whence they took the name of 
Aretino, Poggio Bracciolini, Guarino Veronese, and 
Prancesco Pilelfo, who, after the death of Chrysoloras, in 
1415, strenuously vied with each other in the support of 
Grecian literature, and were successful enough to keep the 
flame alive till it received new aid from other learned Greeks, 
who were driven from Constantinople by the dread of the 
Turks, or by the total overthrow of the eastern empire. To 
these illustrious foreigners, as well as to those eminent 
Italians, who shortly became their successful rivals, even in 
the knowledge of their national history and language, Cosmo 
afforded the most liberal protection and support. Of this the 


22 The life of this eminent scholar and promoter of science is prefixed to his Epis- 
tolae, published by Mehus in 2 vols. 8vo. Flor. 1741. Many particulars may also be 
found in the Dissert. Voss, of Zeno. He was born at Arezzo in 1370, “ de honestis 
quidem sed non admodum generosis parentibus.” For several years he was one of 
the secretaries of the Roman court, but afterwards fixed his residence at Florence, 
where he held an office which had been long enjoyed only by men of the first character 
for learning and abilities, that of secretary to the republic. His history of Florence, 
written in Latin, was translated into Italian by Donato Acciajuoli, and published in 
Venice 1476. Flor. 1492. A considerable number of his works yet remain in MS. 
amongst which are many translations from the Greek. His Latin translation of the 
Epistles of Plato is inscribed to Cosmo de’ Medici, and as the dedication is illustrative 
of his character, and has not hitherto been printed, I shall give it in the Appendix, from 
a MS. copy of the fifteenth century. (Appendix, No. III.) 

23 Carlo Marsuppini, the elder, succeeded his countryman Leonardo Bruni in the 
office of secretary to the republic of Florence. Whilst he held this employment, a 
circumstance occurred in some degree unfavourable to his reputation as a scholar. 
On the emperor’s arrival at Florence, it was the office of Carlo to address him in a 
Latin oration, which he required two days to prepare, and by which he obtained 
no small share of applause: but ASneas Sylvius, the secretary to the emperor, and who 
afterwards became Pope Pius II. having replied in the name of the emperor, and made 
some requisitions to the Florentines that demanded an extempore answer, Carlo 
requested time to prepare himself, and could not be induced to proceed. The interview 
was therefore concluded by Gianozzo Manetti, who, by the specimen he gave of his 
talents on this occasion, rose to great reputation amongst his countrymen. 

We need not hesitate in attributing this event rather to an untimely diffidence, than 
to any want of talents in Carlo, as may be judged, not only from the numerous suf¬ 
frages of his countrymen, but from his own works, some of which yet survive, although 
few have undergone the press. He is however improperly placed by Vossius amongst 
the writers of history, as Apostolo Zeno has fully shown. The numerous errors of the 
Oltramontani in treating on the Literati of Italy ought to operate as a perpetual caution 
to those who follow them in so hazardous a track. Of his poetry, the only piece 
that has been printed is a translation of the Batrachomuomachia of Homer, first 
published at Parma in 1492, and afterwards at Florence by Bernardo Zucchetti, 1512, 
with this distich in the place of a title: 

u Accipe Maeonio cantatas carmine ranas, 

Et frontem nugis solvere disce meis.” 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


15 


1448.] 

numerous productions inscribed to his name, or devoted to his 
praise, are an ample testimony . 24 In some of these he is com¬ 
mended for his attachment to his country, his liberality to his 
friends, his benevolence to all. He is denominated the pro¬ 
tector of the needy, the refuge of the oppressed, the constant 
patron and support of learned men. “ You have shewn,” 
says Poggio , 25 “such humanity and moderation in dispensing 
the gifts of fortune, that they seem to have been rather the 
reward of your virtues and merits, than conceded by her 
bounty. Devoted to the study of letters from your early 
years, you have by your example given additional splendour 
to science itself. Although involved in the weightier concerns 
of state, and unable to devote a great part of your time to 
books, yet you have found a constant satisfaction in the society 
of those learned men who have always frequented your house.” 
In enumerating the men of eminence that distinguished the 
city of Florence, Flavio Blondo adverts in the first instance 
to Cosmo de’ Medici . 26 “ A citizen, who, whilst he excels in 
wealth every other citizen of Europe, is rendered much more 
illustrious by his prudence, his humanity, his liberality, and 
what is more to our present purpose, by his knowledge of 
useful literature, and particularly of history.” 

That extreme avidity for the works of the ancient writers 
which distinguished the early part of the fifteenth Researchesaf _ 
century, announced the near approach of more en- ter the writings 
lightened times. Whatever were the causes that ° eancie “ s ' 
determined men of wealth and learning to exert themselves 
so strenuously in this pursuit, certain it is, that their inter¬ 
ference was of the highest importance to the interests of 
posterity; and that if it had been much longer delayed, the 
loss would have been in a great degree irreparable; such of 
the manuscripts as then existed, of the ancient Greek and 
Roman authors, being daily perishing in obscure comers, a 


24 To Cosmo de’ Medici, Argyropylus addressed his translation of several tracts 
of Aristotle; Lapo Castellionchio, his life of Themistocles from Plutarch; and Bene¬ 
detto Accolti, his dialogue “ de viris illustribus.” A great number of other learned 
works, inscribed to Cosmo, remain in the Laurentian library, and are particularly cited 
in the catalogue of Bandini, Flor. 1774, &c. 

25 Poggii Opera, p. 312. Ed. Basil. 1538. 

26 Ap. Tiraboschi, Storia della Lett. Ital. vol. vi. pp. 1, 27. 


16 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

prey to oblivion and neglect. It was therefore a circum¬ 
stance productive of the happiest consequences, that the 
pursuits of the opulent were at this time directed rather to¬ 
wards the recovery of the works of the ancients, than to the 
£) encouragement of contemporary merit; a fact that may serve 
in some degree to account for the dearth of original literary 
productions during this interval. Induced by the rewards 
that invariably attended a successful inquiry, those men who 
possessed any considerable share of learning, devoted them¬ 
selves to this occupation, and to such a degree of enthusiasm 
was it carried, that the discovery of an ancient manuscript 
was regarded as almost equivalent to the conquest of a 
kingdom. 

The history of the vicissitudes which the writings of the 
ancients have experienced, is little less than the history of 
literature itself, which has flourished or declined in propor¬ 
tion as they have been esteemed or neglected. A full and 
accurate detail of these circumstances, whilst it would be 
highly interesting to the scholar, would discharge in some 
degree the debt of gratitude due to those who have devoted 
their labours and their fortunes to this important service. 
In relinquishing an inquiry too extensive for the nature of 
the present work, it may be here allowed to advert to such 
remains of the ancient authors as were brought to light dur¬ 
ing the period in question, by the munificence of Cosmo 
de’ Medici, and the industry of those who so earnestly se¬ 
conded his endeavours. 

Of all the learned men of his time, Poggio 27 seems to 
have devoted himself the most particularly to 
cionnf . 10 Brac " this employment, and his exertions were crowned 
with ample success. The number of manu¬ 
scripts discovered by him in different parts of Europe, 

27 This extraordinary man, whose writings throw considerable light on the history of 
the age, and whose Latin style pleases by its unaffected simplicity, was born in the year 
1381, of the noble family of Bracciolini, originally of Florence, and having spent his 
youth in travelling through different countries of Europe, settled at length at Rome. 
He remained in this city as secretary in the service of eight successive popes, till he 
was invited to Florence in the year 1452, being then upwards of seventy years of 
age, to succeed Carlo Marsuppini, as secretary to the republic. After his return to 
Florence he began to write the history of that state, but dying before he had brought 
it to a conclusion, it was afterwards completed by his unfortunate son Giacopo. His 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


17 


1448 .] 

during the space of near fifty years, will remain a last¬ 
ing proof of his perseverance, and of his sagacity in these 
pursuits. Whilst he attended the council of Constance 
in the year 1415, he took an opportunity of visiting the 
convent of S. Gallo, distant from that city about twenty 
miles, where he had been informed that it was probable he 
might find some manuscripts of the ancient Roman writers. 
In this place he had the happiness to discover a complete 
copy of Quintilian, whose works had before appeared only in 
a mutilated and imperfect state. At the same time he found 
the first three books, and part of the fourth, of the Argo- 
nautics of Valerius Rlaccus. Some idea may be formed of 
the critical state of these works from the account that Poggio 
has left. Buried in the obscurity of a dark and lonely tower, 
covered with filth and rubbish, their destruction seemed 
inevitable. Of this fortunate discovery he gave immediate 
notice to his friend Leonardo Aretino, who, by representing 
to him the importance and utility of his labours, stimulated 
him to fresh exertions. The letter addressed by Leonardo 
to Poggio on that occasion is full of the highest commenda¬ 
tions, and the most extravagant expressions of joy. 28 By his 
subsequent researches through Prance and Germany, Poggio 
also recovered several of the orations of Cicero. 29 At that 


numerous works have been several times reprinted; the most general collection of 
them is that of Basil, 1538. Of all his productions his Liber Facetiarum is the most 
singular. The gross indecency of some of his tales can only be equalled by the free¬ 
dom in which he indulges himself respecting the priesthood. It is difficult to con¬ 
ceive how he escaped in those times the resentment of that order; but we must 
remember that this work was produced in the bosom of the church, and was probably 
an amusement for the learned leisure of prelates and of cardinals. In a short preface 
Poggio explains the motives that led him to this composition, and attempts to excuse 
its licentiousness. 

Although Poggio was an ecclesiastic, he had several children whom he openly 
acknowledged. His friend the cardinal of S. Angelo having remonstrated with him 
on the irregularity of his conduct, Poggio, in his reply, acknowledges his fault, but at 
the same time attempts to extinguish the glare of it in the general blaze of licentious¬ 
ness that involved the age. His letter on this occasion affords a striking proof of the 
depravity of the times. (Poggii Hist, de Varietate Fortune, &c. p. 207, ed. Par. 
1723.) He afterwards divested himself of his clerical character, and married a young 
and handsome wife; in justification of which measure he thought it necessary to 
write a treatise, which he entitled, “ An seni sit uxor ducenda,” and which he 
addressed to Cosmo de’ Medici. This dissertation yet remains, though it has not 
hitherto been printed. Zeno, Diss. Voss. i. 36, &c. Illustrations of the Life of Lor. 
de’ Medici, p. 83. 

88 Leonardi Bruni Ep. lib. iv. ep. v. 29 Trav. Ep. vol. i. praef. p. 36. 

2 


18 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

time only eight of the comedies of Plautus were known. 
The first complete copy of that author was brought to Rome 
at the instance of Poggio, by Nicholas of Treves, a German 
monk, from whom it was purchased by the cardinal Giordano 
Orsini, who was afterwards with great difficulty prevailed 
upon to suffer Poggio and his friends to copy it; and even 
this favour would not have been granted without the warm 
interference of Lorenzo, the brother of Cosmo de’ Medici. 
The monk had flattered the Italian scholars that he also pos¬ 
sessed a copy of the work of Aulus Gellius, and of the first 
book of Quintus Curtius; but in this they were disap¬ 
pointed . 30 Prom a Latin elegy by Cristoforo Landino, on 
the death of Poggio, we are fully authorized to conclude that 
he also first discovered the beautiful and philosophic poem 
of Lucretius, that of Silius Italicus, and the valuable work of 
Columella: and from a memorial yet existing in the hand¬ 
writing of Angelo Politiano, it appears that the poems of 
Statius were brought into Italy by the same indefatigable 
investigator. In the opinion of Politiano these poems were 
indeed inaccurate and defective, yet all the copies which he 
had seen were derived from this manuscript . 31 

Poggio had once formed the fullest expectations of obtain¬ 
ing a copy of the Decades of Livy, which a monk had assured 
him he had seen in the Cistercian monastery of Sora, com¬ 
prised in two volumes in large Lombard characters . 32 He 
immediately wrote to a friend at Florence, requesting him 
to prevail on Cosmo de’ Medici to direct his agent in that 
neighbourhood to repair to the monastery, and to purchase 
the work. Some time afterwards Poggio addressed himself 
to Leonello d’Este, marquis of Perrara, on the same subject, 
but apparently without any great hopes of success . 33 His 
attempts to recover the writings of Tacitus were equally ^ 
fruitless . 34 After long inquiry he was convinced that no 
copy of that author existed in Germany; yet, at the distance 
of nearly a century, the five books of his history were brought 

30 Trav. Ep. vol. i. prsef. pp. 40, 41, 43. 

31 Pol. ap. Band. Cat. Bib. Laur. Plut. xxxii. Cod. 10. 

32 Poggii Ep. ap. Trav. ep. vol. i. prsef. p. 46. 

33 Poggius de Var. For. p. 215. 

34 Trav. Ep. vol. i. prsef. p. 47. 


1448.] LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 19 

from thence to Rome, and presented to Leo X. In prose¬ 
cution of his favourite object, Poggio extended his researches 
into England, where he resided some time with the cardinal 
bishop of Winchester; 35 and from whence he transmitted to 
Italy the Bucolics of Calphurnius, and a part of the works 
of Petronius. 36 

The researches of Guarino Veronese, 3 ? of Giovanni Au- 
rispa, and of Francesco Eilelfo, were directed towards another 
quarter. For the purpose of procuring ancient manuscripts, 
and of acquiring a competent knowledge of the Greek lan¬ 
guage, they visited Constantinople, and other parts of the 
east, where their perseverance was repaid by the acquisition 
of many valuable works. Guarino on his return 
to Italy was shipwrecked, and unfortunately for I0 ^ s T n ° Ve 
himself and the world, lost his treasures. So 
pungent was his grief upon this occasion, that if we may 
believe the relation of one of his countrymen, his hair be¬ 
came suddenly white. 38 Aurispa was more suc¬ 
cessful; he arrived at Venice in the year 1423, r ^°J anni Au ' 
with two hundred and thirty-eight manuscripts, 
amongst which were all the works of Plato, of Proclus, of 
Plotinus, of Lucian, of Xenophon, the histories of Arrian, of 
Dio, and of Diodorus Siculus, the geography of Strabo, the 
poems of Callimachus, of Pindar, of Oppian, and those attri¬ 
buted to Orpheus. In one of his epistles to Traversari, many 


35 Poggio has given a picture of the English nobility somewhat different from that 
of the present times—“ Hos (Gallos) Britanni sequuntur, Angli hodie vocitati, qui 
nobiles in civitatibus morari ignominise loco putant, rura, sylvis ac pascuis seclusa, 
inhabitant; nobiliorem ex censu judicant; rem rusticam curant, vendentes lanam et 
armentorum foetus; neque turpe existimant admisceri quaestui rusticano.” Poggius 
de Nobilitate, in Op. Bas. 1538, p. 69. 

36 At least there is reason to conjecture so, from a passage in a letter from Poggio to 
Niccolo Niccoli: “ Mittas ad me oro Bucolicam Calphurnii et partiunculam Petronii 
quas misi tibi ex Britannia,” &c. Trav. Ep. vol. i. praef. p. 29. 

37 Many particulars respecting Guarino may be collected from the poems of his 
pupil Janus Pannonius, printed at Basil by Frobenius, in 1518, and which are possessed 
of considerable merit. Of these poems a new and improved edition was published at 
Utrecht in 1784, in 2 vols. 8vo. Guarino was born in 1370, and was the first native 
Italian who publicly taught the Greek tongue in Italy. He is, however, more cele¬ 
brated as a preceptor than as an author. Almost all the learned men of the 15th 
century have profited by his instructions, but his diction is considered by Cortesi as 
harsh and inelegant. Cort. de Horn. Doctis. Flor. 1734. 

38 Pontico Virunio, Scrittore dei primi anni del secolo xvi. ap. Tirab. Storia della 
Lett. Ital. vol. vi. pp. 1, 89. 


o 


20 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

other works are particularly enumerated, some of which 
are not at present known, and have most probably pe¬ 
rished. 39 The large sums of money which Aurispa had 
expended in purchasing so considerable a number of books, 
and the charges of conveying them to Venice, had exhausted 
his finances, and he was obliged to apply to Traversari to 
procure him the sum of fifty florins to relieve him from his 
embarrassments. This was readily supplied by Cosmo de’ 
Medici and his brother Lorenzo, to whom Aurispa ex¬ 
presses his obligations with great warmth, and apparent sin¬ 
cerity. 40 

Filelfo was about twenty years of age when he undertook 
his expedition to Constantinople, where he re- 
Pi“° mained about seven years, and married the daugh¬ 
ter of the noble and learned John Chrysoloras. 
In 1427 he returned to Italy with a great number of manu¬ 
scripts which he had collected; and made a conspicuous 
figure amongst the literati there during the chief part of the 
fifteenth century, having been successively engaged as pro¬ 
fessor of different branches of science, at most of the univer¬ 
sities and seminaries of education throughout that country. 
With all his learning, Filelfo had not acquired the art of 
controlling his own temper, which was in a high degree 
petulant, suspicious, and arrogant. His whole life was 
passed in quarrels and dissensions. At some times he nar¬ 
rowly escaped the public punishment due to his excesses; at 
others, the effects of the private resentment of those whom he 
had offended. He was even accused of having conspired 
against the life of Cosmo de’ Medici, and of having engaged 
a Greek assassin to murder him. Their disagreement seems 
to have taken place during the exile of Cosmo at Venice. 
Amongst the letters of Filelfo there are some to Cosmo, in 
which he falls greatly short of the respect which he owed 
him for his patronage; and wherein he inveighs with much 
rancour against Niccolo Niccoli, and Carlo Aretino, the par¬ 
ticular friends of Cosmo. 41 From several of these letters he 


Aurispae Ep. in Epistolis Amb. Trav. lib. xxiv. ep. 53. 40 Ibid, ep. 57. 
41 Phil. Ep. pp. 18, 19. Ed. 1501. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


21 


1448.] 

appears to have had frequent apprehensions of assassina¬ 
tion; and even affects to accuse Cosmo of favouring the 
attempt. 42 How much Cosmo was superior to such imputa¬ 
tions, appeared in the moderation of his conduct, which at 
length overcame even the arrogance and resentment of Filelfo 
himself; who lived to receive innumerable favours from him 
and his descendants; and died at Florence in the year 1481, 
in the eighty-third year of his age. 

The productions of Filelfo are very numerous, and in 
almost every branch of literature. 43 His industry in collect¬ 
ing manuscripts was, however, of more indisputable service 
to the cause of learning. Of the particular works brought 
by him into Italy he has not left a very explicit account, 
but it appears that he had sent a considerable number to his 
friend Leonardo Giustiniani at Venice, from whom he found 
some difficulty in obtaining them after his return. The 
letters of Filelfo contain, indeed, innumerable complaints of 
the injustice of his friends, in withholding the books which 
he had lent for their use or intrusted to their care. “Perhaps,” 
says Tiraboschi, “ they acted upon the same principle as the 
enthusiasts of the darker ages, who considered the stealing 
the relics of a saint not as a theft, but as a pious and meri¬ 
torious act.” Such was the high estimation in which these 
works were held, that a manuscript of the history of Livy, 
sent by Cosmo de Medici to Alfonso, king of Naples, with 
whom he was at variance, conciliated the breach between 
them; and although the. king’s physicians insinuated that 
the book was probably poisoned, Alfonso disregarded their 
suspicions, and began with great pleasure the perusal of the 
work. 44 

In the year 1488, a general council was held by Eit- 


42 By a letter of Filelfo to Lapo Castellionchio, which came to the sight of Am- 
brogio Traversari, it appeared that he expressed himself in terms of resentment 
against both Traversari and Cosmo de’ Medici. Traversari upbraided him with his 
duplicity, and Filelfo attempted to justify it by accusing Cosmo, in his reply, of a 
design on his life. Phil. Ed. p. 26. 

4a A very extensive catalogue of them may be found in the Dissert. Voss, of 
Apostolo Zeno. 

44 This splendid volume, with notes in the hand-writing of Alfonso, is now pre¬ 
served in the manuscript library at Holkham : v. Illustrations of Lorenzo de’ Medici, 


22 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

genius IY. at Ferrara, for the purpose of settling some con- 

Councii of tested points, both of doctrine and discipline, be- 
Fiorence. tween the Greek and Roman churches, preparatory 
to their proposed union; but the plague having 
made its appearance at that place, the council was in the fol¬ 
lowing year transferred to Florence. On this occasion not 
only the pope and several of his cardinals, the Greek patriarch 
and his metropohtans, but the emperor of the east, John 
Paleologus, attended in person. Shortly before their arrival, 
Cosmo had been invested a second time with the office of 
Gonfaloniere; and the reception he gave to these illustrious 
visitors, whilst it was highly honourable to his guests, was 
extremely gratifying to the citizens of Florence, who were 
as remarkable for the magnificence of their public exhi¬ 
bitions as for their moderation and frugality in private life. 
As the questions agitated at this council would not admit 
of illustration from reasoning, and could only be argued 
from authority, the longer the dispute continued, the more 
were the parties at variance; but the critical situation of the 
eastern empire, then closely attacked by the Turks, and the 
expectations which the emperor had formed of procuring 
succours from the pope, and from other European princes, 
reconciled what the efforts of the schoolmen had only served 
to perplex. The proposed union accordingly took place, 
and the pope was acknowledged by the whole assembly as 
the legitimate successor of St. Peter. Little advantage was, 
however, derived by either of the parties from this remark¬ 
able transaction. The emperor was disappointed in his ex¬ 
pectations of support, and with respect to the supremacy of 
the Roman church over the Greek, the ecclesiastics of the 
latter refused to obey the decree; and even many who had 
been present, and signed it at the council, publicly retracted 
at Constantinople. 45 

For the purpose of conducting these important debates, 
each of the parties had selected six disputants, eminent for 
their rank and learning. Amongst those chosen on the 

45 A full and interesting account of the visit of the Greek emperor to Italy, and 
of the proceedings and consequences of the council of Florence, may be found in 
Gibbon’s History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, c. 66. 


. 1448.] LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 23 

part of the Greeks was Gemisthus Pletho, who was then at 
a very advanced period of a life which had been Revival f 
devoted to the study of the Platonic philosophy. 46 the Platonic 
As often as his public avocations afforded him phlIosophy ‘ 
an opportunity, he employed himself in the propagation of 
his opinions, which were not only new to the scholars of 
Italy, but were greatly at variance with those doctrines 
which had long obtained an uninterrupted ascendancy in 
all the public schools and seminaries of learning. So power¬ 
ful was the effect which the discourses of Gemisthus had 
upon Cosmo de’ Medici, who was his constant auditor, that 
he determined to establish an academy at Florence, for the 
sole purpose of cultivating this new and more elevated spe¬ 
cies of philosophy. With this view he selected Marsilio 
Picino, the son of his favourite physician, and destined him, 
though very young, to be the support of his future esta¬ 
blishment. The education of Picino was, as he has himself 
informed us, entirely directed to the new philosophy. 47 The 
doctrines and precepts of the Grecian sage were assiduously 
instilled into his infant mind, and as he increased in years, 
he applied himself to the study, not of the works of Plato 
only, but also of those of Plotinus, a distinguished promoter 
of the doctrines of that philosopher in the third century. 
Nor were the expectations which Cosmo had formed of 
Picino disappointed. The Florentine academy was some 
years afterwards established with great credit, and was the 
first institution in Europe for the pursuit of science, de¬ 
tached from the scholastic method then universally adopted. 
It is true, the sublime and fanciful doctrines of Plato were 
almost as remote from the purposes of common life and 
general utility, as the dogmatic opinions of Aristotle; but 
the introduction of the former was nevertheless of essential 
service to the cause of free inquiry, and substantial know¬ 
ledge. By dividing the attention of the learned, they de- 

46 Pletho, though living in 1439, had been the preceptor of Emanuel Chrysoloras, 
the great promoter of Grecian literature in Italy, whom he however long survived, 
having lived to the extended age of one hundred years. Hodius de Graicis illustri- 
bus, p. 22. Ed. Lond. 1742. 

47 See the proeme to his translation of the works of Plotinus, addressed to Lorenzo 
de’ Medici. 



24 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

prived the doctrines of Aristotle of that servile respect and 
veneration which had so long been paid to them; and by 
introducing the discussion of new subjects, they prepared 
the way for the pursuit of truths more properly within the 
sphere of the human intellect. 

As the natural disposition of C6smo led him to take an 
active part in collecting the remains of the ancient 
tawishes 0 the Greek and Roman writers, so he was enabled by -q 
bra U r>r tian 11 his wealth and his extensive mercantile inter¬ 
course with different parts of Europe and of Asia, 
to gratify a passion of this kind beyond any other indi¬ 
vidual. To this end, he laid injunctions on all his friends 
and correspondents, as well as on the missionaries and 
preachers who travelled into the remotest countries, to 
search for and procure ancient manuscripts, in every lan-° 
guage, and on every subject. 48 Besides the services of 
Poggio and Traversari, Cosmo availed himself of those of 
Cristoforo Buondelmonti, Antonio da Massa, Andrea de 
Rimino, and many others. The situation of the eastern 
empire, then daily falling into ruins by the repeated attacks 
of the Turks, afforded him an opportunity of obtaining many 
inestimable works in the Hebrew, the Greek, Chaldaic, 
Arabic, and Indian languages. Erom these beginnings arose 
the celebrated library of the Medici, which, after having 
been the constant object of the solicitude of its founder, 
was after his death further enriched by the attention of his 
descendants, and particularly of his grandson Lorenzo; and 
after various vicissitudes of fortune, and frequent and con¬ 
siderable additions, has been preserved to the present times, 
under the name of the “ Bibliotheca Mediceo-Laurentiana. 

Amongst those who imitated the example of Cosmo de’ 
Medici was Niccolo Niccoli, another citizen of Elorence, 
who devoted his whole time and fortune to the acquisition 


48 “ The example of the Roman pontiff was preceded or imitated by a Florentine 
merchant, who governed the republic without arms, and without a title. Cosmo of 
Medici was the father of a line of princes, whose name and age are almost synony¬ 
mous with the restoration of learning : his credit was ennobled into fame ; his riches 
were dedicated to the service of mankind; he corresponded at once with Cairo and 
London, and a cargo of Indian spices and Greek books were often imported in the 
same vessel.” Gibbon’s Hist, of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, c. 66. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


25 


1448.] 

of ancient manuscripts; in this pursuit he had been emi¬ 
nently successful, having collected together eight 
hundred volumes of Greek, Roman, and Oriental coiifounds^lle 
authors; a number in those times justly thought ^ r r c a o ry of s - 
very considerable. Several of these works he 
had copied with great accuracy, and had diligently em¬ 
ployed himself in correcting their defects and arranging 
the text in its proper order. In this respect he is justly 
regarded by Melius as the father of this species of criticism. 49 
He died in 1486, having by his will directed that his li¬ 
brary should be devoted to the use of the public, and ap¬ 
pointed sixteen Curators, amongst whom was Cosmo de’ 
Medici. After his death it appeared that he was greatly in 
debt, and that his liberal intentions were likely to be frus¬ 
trated by the insolvency of his circumstances. Cosmo 
therefore proposed to his associates that if they would resign 
to him the right of disposition of the books, he would him¬ 
self discharge all the debts of Niccolo; to which they rea¬ 
dily acceded. Having thus obtained the sole direction of 
the manuscripts, he deposited them, for public use, in the 
Dominican monastery of S. Marco at Florence, which he 
had himself erected at an enormous expense. 50 This collec¬ 
tion was the foundation of another celebrated library in 
Florence, known by the name of the “ Bibliotheca Mar- 
ciana,” which is yet open to the inspection of the learned, 
at the distance of three centuries. 51 


49 In praef. ad Ep. Trav. p. 50. 

50 From the funeral oration of Niccolo Niccoli, by Poggio, we learn, that the most 
celebrated collections that had been formed in Italy, before that of Niccolo, were 
those of Petrarca, of Lodovico Marsilio, an Augustine monk, of Boccaccio, and of 
Colucio Salutati. The first of these was sold and dispersed after the death of its 
possessor. Marsilio and Boccaccio bequeathed their collections to the library of the 
Augustine monastery at Florence: and that of Colucio, which almost equalled in 
number the library of Niccoli, was sold by his children after his decease. To Nic¬ 
colo Niccoli we must therefore attribute the honour of having set the first example 
of forming in Italy an institution so favourable to the interests of learning, as a 
public library. Poggius in funere Nic. in op. Basil, 277. 

51 Tiraboschi suspects that the books collected by Cosmo and by Niccolo Niccoli 
were united together in the library of S. Marco, and that Lorenzo was the first of his 
family who began a collection under his own roof. (Storia della Lett. Ital. vol. vi. 
parte i. p. 98.) But ample evidence remains of the establishment of a domestic 
library by Cosmo. To say nothing of the authority of the modern Florentine biblio¬ 
graphers, and particularly of Bandini, (Lettera sopra i principj, &c.) I may cite the 
explicit testimony of Alberto Avogradi, a contemporary of Cosmo, who addressed to 


26 THE LIFE OF [CH. I. 

In the arrangement of the library of S. Marco, Cosmo 
had procured the assistance of Tomaso Calandrino, who 
drew up a scheme for that purpose, and prepared a scien¬ 
tific catalogue of the books it contained. In selecting a 
coadjutor, the choice of Cosmo had fallen upon an extra¬ 
ordinary man. Though Tomaso was the son of a poor phy¬ 
sician of Sarzana, and ranked only in the lower order of the 
clergy, he had the ambition to aim at possessing some spe¬ 
cimens of these venerable relics of ancient genius. His 
learning and his industry enabled him to gratify his wishes, 
and his perseverance surmounted the disadvantages of his 
situation. In this pursuit he was frequently induced to 
anticipate his scanty revenue, well knowing that the estima¬ 
tion in which he was held by his friends, would preserve 
him from pecuniary difficulties. With the Greek and Ro¬ 
man authors no one was more intimately acquainted, and 
as he wrote a very fine hand, the books he possessed ac¬ 
quired additional value from the marginal observations 
which he was accustomed to make in perusing them. By 
the rapid degrees of fortunate preferment, Tomaso was, in 
the short space of twelve months, raised from his humble 
situation to the chair of St. Peter, and in eight years, during 
which time he enjoyed the supreme dignity, by the name 
of Nicholas V. acquired a reputation that has increased 
with the increasing estimation of those studies which he so 
liberally fostered and protected. The scanty library of his 
predecessors had been nearly dissipated or destroyed by fre¬ 
quent removals between Avignon and Rome, according as 
the caprice of the reigning pontiff chose either of those 
places for his residence; and it appears from the letters 
of Traversari, that scarcely any thing of value remained. 

him a poem in two books, entitled, “ De religione et magnificentia illustris Cosmi 
Medices Florentini,” which has been published by Lami, (Deliciae Erudit. v. 12,) in 
which these two collections are distinctly adverted to. Speaking in his first book of 
the public buildings erected by Cosmo, and particularly of the monastery of S. Marco, 
he adds, 

“ Post cellas gravis iste labor numerare libellos 
Quos duplici lingua bibliotheca tenet: 

Ista tenet nostros, servat pars altera Graecos, 

Quis poterit quot sunt enumerare libros ?” 

And in his second book, when he describes the palace of Cosmo, he expatiates 
largely on his library. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


1448.] 


27 


I Nicholas Y. is therefore to be considered as the^ founder 
!of the library of the Vatican. In the completion 
iof this great design, it is true, much was left to Library found” 
be performed by his successors; but Nicholas ®^ s p ^ eNi ' 
had before his death collected upwards of five 
thousand volumes of Greek and Roman authors, and had 
not only expressed his intention of establishing a library for 
the use of the Roman Court, but had also taken measures 
for carrying such intention into execution. 

Whilst the munificence of the rich, and the industry of 
the learned were thus employed throughout Italy 
in preserving the remains of the ancient authors, ot 

some obscure individuals in a comer of Germany 
had conceived, and were silently bringing to perfection, an 
invention which, by means equally effectual and unexpected, 
secured to the world the result of their labours. This was 
the art of printing with moveable types; a discovery of which 
the beneficial effects have been increasing to the present day, 
and are yet advancing with accelerated progress. 52 The 
coincidence of this discovery, with the spirit of the times 
in which it had birth, was highly fortunate. Had it been 
made known at a much earlier period, it would have been 
disregarded or forgotten, from the mere want of materials 
on which to exercise it; and had it been further postponed, 
it is probable, that notwithstanding the generosity of the 
rich and the diligence of the learned, many works would 


52 Of the numerous authors who have minutely inquired into the rise of this useful 
art, no one has had greater opportunities of obtaining information, or has pursued 
his inquiries with more accuracy than Mr. Heineken, who has clearly shown, that 
the fabrication of cards for games of chance, was first practised in Germany, and was 
in use before the close of the fourteenth century. Not long afterwards, the same art 
that had at first been subservient to the amusement, was employed to gratify the i 
superstition of the people, and it became usual to cut upon blocks of wood the figures 
of saints, with inscriptions. Mr. Heineken has cited an indisputable specimen of the i 
latter, so early as the year 1423. These inscriptions gave the first idea of printing 
with tablets of wood, which are well known to have led the way to the invention of j 
moveable types. The first hook printed with such types was a copy of the Bible, 
which made its appearance between the years 1450 and 1452. This discovery is 
certainly to be attributed to the Germans, whether it consisted in printing with blocks 
of wood, or with types moveable at pleasure. John Guttemberg, of Mayence has the 
best claim to the honour of an invention which has so essentially contributed to 
enlarge the sphere of action of the human faculties. Idee generate d’une Collection 
complette d'Estampes. Leipsicet Nienne, 1771. 




THE LIFE OF 


28 


[CH. I. 


have been totally lost, which are now justly regarded as the 
noblest monuments of the human intellect. 

Nearly the same period of time that gave the world this 
important discovery, saw the destruction of the 
Constantino- Roman empire in the east. In the year 1453 
ple A .D. 1453 . the city of Constantinople was captured by the 
Turks, under the command of Mahomet II. aftei 
a vigorous defence of fifty-three days. The encouragement 
which had been shown to the Greek professors at Florence, 
and the character of Cosmo de’ Medici as a promoter of 
letters, induced many learned Greeks to seek a shelter in 
that city, where they met with a welcome and honourable 
reception. Amongst these were Demetrius Chalcondyles, 
Johannes Andronicus Calistus, Constantius and Johannes 
Lascaris, in whom the Platonic philosophy obtained fresh 
partisans, and by whose support it began openly to oppose 
itself to that of Aristotle . 53 Between the Greek and Italian 
professors a spirit of emulation was kindled, that operated 
most favourably on the cause of letters. Public schools 
were instituted at Florence for the study of the Greek 
tongue. The facility of diffusing their labours by means of 
the newly-discovered art of printing, stimulated the learned 
to fresh exertions; and in a few years the cities of Italy 
vied with each other in the number and elegance of works 
produced from the press . 54 

53 The celebrated Johannes Argyropylus, though ranked by Dr. Hody amongst the 
learned Greeks who did not arrive in Italy until after the capture of Constantinople, 
had undoubtedly taken up his residence there before that event, as is fully shewn by 
Mehus. Praef. ad Trav. Ep. vol. i. prajf. p. 20. 

54 Although Italy has no pretensions to the invention of printing, it was the first 
country that followed the example of Germany, and that with such ardour, as not 
only to outvie the rest of Europe in the number of printed works, but even to give 
speedy perfection to the art. Much investigation has been employed in determining 
in what city of Italy it was first practised, and attempts have been made to shew 
that Venice produced the Decor Puellarum, in 1461, and Milan, the Historic 
Augustae Scriptores, in 1465. The evidence of these is at least doubtful; but it is 
certain, that in the year last mentioned, the works of Lactantius were printed at the 
monastery of Soubiaco, in the Campagna of Rome, and that the grammatical work 
of Donatus had before issued from the same press. The character used by the Ger¬ 
man inventors was the Gothic, and those of the early Roman printers partook of the 
same form, but in a few years it was superseded by the character now in general use, 
which has therefore obtained the name of Roman. In the year 1471 this art was 
practised in Naples, Bologna, Ferrara, and Florence, and in a short time there was 
scarcely a place of any note in Italy in which it was unattempted. The Carattere 
Corsivo, or running type, was the invention of the celebrated Aldo Manutio, and 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


29 


1448.] 

Towards the latter period of his life, a great part of the 
time that Cosmo could withdraw from the administration of 
public affairs, was passed at his seats at Careggi and Caffag- 
giolo, where he applied himself to the cultivation of his 
farms, from which he derived no inconsiderable revenue. 
But his happiest hours were devoted to the study Cosmo ap 
of letters and philosophy, or passed in the com- p 1 ^ himself to 
pany and conversation of learned men. When study ’ 
he retired at intervals to his seat at Careggi, he was gene¬ 
rally accompanied by Ticino, where, after having been his 
protector, he became his pupil in the study of the Platonic 
philosophy. Por his use Picino began those laborious trans¬ 
lations of the works of Plato and his followers, which were 
afterwards completed and published in the lifetime and by 
the liberality of Lorenzo. Amongst the letters of Picino is 
one from his truly venerable patron, which bespeaks most 
forcibly the turn of his mind, and his earnest desire of 
acquiring knowledge, even at his advanced period of life. 
“ Yesterday/’ says he, “ I arrived at Careggi—not so much 
for the purpose of improving my fields, as myself—let me 
see you, Marsilio, as soon as possible, and forget not to 
bring with you the book of our favourite Plato, de summo 
bono— which I presume, according to your promise, you 
have ere this translated into Latin ; for there is no employ¬ 
ment to which I so ardently devote myself as to find out the 
true road to happiness. Come, then, and fail not to bring 
with you the Orphean lyre.” Whatever might be the pro¬ 
being first used in Italy, thence acquired the name of the Italic, or Aldine character. 
Strictly speaking, however, the Roman character itself was derived from the cursive 
character of the ancient Romans, as it appeared in the MSS. of the times, with such 
corrections and improvements as were snitable to the taste of the letter-founder, and 
not from the original or primary character. That both the Greeks and Romans had 
a smaller, distinct, and more ready character for common use, is well known; and 
from that of the Romans all the modern European characters are supposed to have 
been derived. “ Ex illo autem minusculo charactere cursivo, quern veteribus Ro¬ 
manis, ut et Graecis notum fuisse demonstravimus, defluxerunt illi characteres quos 
Cl. Mabillon, lib. i. cap. ll.de Arte diplomatica, ethinc Cl. Abbas Godefridus, in 
Chron. Gottwicensi, tom. i. p. 16, vocant Gothicos, Longobardicos, Francogallicos, 
seu Merovingicos, Carolinos, Anglo-saxonicos, Toletanos, Sueco-gothicos, &c. Omnes 
illi characteres, primo adspectu dissimiles, ad unum eundemque cursivum veterum 
Romanorum, veluti ad suam fontem revocandi sunt; et varias pro variis et regionibus, 
et saeculis, et librariorum mandihus induerunt formas.” Villoison, Anecd. Graec. p. 
149.—For the above extract, elucidating this curious subject, I am indebted to the 
Rev. Dr. Parr. 


30 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

ficiency of Cosmo in the mysteries of his favourite philo¬ 
sopher, there is reason to believe that he applied those 
doctrines and precepts which furnished the litigious dis¬ 
putants of the age with a plentiful source of contention, to 
the purposes of real life and practical improvement. Not¬ 
withstanding his active and useful life, he often regretted 
the hours he had lost. “ Midas was not more sparing of 
his money,” says Ficino, “ than Cosmo was of his time.” 

The wealth and influence that Cosmo had acquired, had 
„ . r long entitled him to rank with the most powerful 
Piero de* Me- princes of Italy, with whom he might have formed 
connections by the intermarriage of his children ; 
but being apprehensive that such measures might give rise 
to suspicions that he entertained designs inimical to the 
freedom of the state, he rather chose to increase his interest 
amongst the citizens of Florence, by the marriage of his 
children into the most distinguished families of that place. 
Piero, his eldest son, married Lucretia Tornabuoni, by 
whom he had two sons, Lorenzo, the subject of our present 
Birth of lo hi s t° r y> born on the 1st day of January, 1448, 
renzo and Giu- and Giuliano, born in the year 1453. Piero had 
also two daughters, Nannina, who married Ber¬ 
nardo Rucellai, and Bianca, who became the wife of Guli- 
elmo de’ Pazzi. Giovanni, the younger son of Cosmo, 
espoused Cornelia de’ Alessandri, by whom he had a son 
who died very young. Giovanni himself did not long sur¬ 
vive. He died in the year 1461, at forty-two years of age. 
Living under the shade of paternal authority, his name 
scarcely occurs in the pages of history; but the records of 
literature bear testimony, that in his disposition and studies 
he did not derogate from the reputation of that character¬ 
istic attachment to men of learning, by which his family 
was invariably distinguished. 55 

55 In the Laurentian library are several manuscripts which appear to have been 
copied for his use. At the close of the works of Lactantius (Plut. xxi. Cod. 2.) is the 
following memorial:—“ Scriptus autem fuit manu mea Gerardi Johannis del Ciriagio 
civis et notarii Florentini pro Johanne Cosmi de' Medicis optimo et primario cive Flo¬ 
rentine de anno Domini mcccclviii. Florentiae, Laus Deo.” Similar memorials 
occur in other instances. (Bandinii, Cat. Bib. Laur.) Nicolo Tignosio inscribed to 
Giovanni de’ Medici his treatise “ De laudibus Cosmi patris ejus.” On his death Naldo 
Naldio addressed a Latin poem to his father, which is printed in the Carmina illust. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


31 


1453.] 

Besides his legitimate offspring, Cosmo left also a natural 
son, Carlo de’ Medici, whom he liberally educated, and who 
compensated the disadvantages of his birth by the respecta¬ 
bility of his life. The manners of the times might be 
alleged in extenuation of a circumstance apparently incon¬ 
sistent with the gravity of the character of Cosmo de’ Me¬ 
dici ; but Cosmo himself disclaimed such apology, and 
whilst he acknowledged his youthful indiscretion, made 
amends to society for the breach of a salutary regulation, 
by attending to the morals and the welfare of his illegiti¬ 
mate descendant. Under his countenance Carlo became 
proposto of Prato, and one of the apostolic notaries; and 
as his general residence was at Rome, he was frequently re¬ 
sorted to by his father and brothers, for his advice and as¬ 
sistance in procuring ancient manuscripts and other valuable 
remains of antiquity. 

The death of Giovanni de 5 Medici, on whom Cosmo had 
placed his chief expectations, and the weak state of health 
that Piero experienced, which rendered him unfit for the ex¬ 
ertions of public life, in so turbulent a place as Plorence, 
raised great apprehensions in Cosmo, that at his decease the 
splendour of his family would, close. These reflections em¬ 
bittered the repose of his latter days. A short time before 
his death, being carried through the apartments of his palace, 
after having recently lost his son, he exclaimed with a sigh, 
This is too great a house for so small a family . These ap¬ 
prehensions were in some degree realized by the infirmities 
under which Piero laboured during the few years in which 
he held the direction of the republic; but the talents of 


Poet. Ital. vol. vi. p. 451. The same work contains other testimonies of the regret 
that attended his loss. I shall content myself with giving one of the several epitaphs 
that Peregrino Allio wrote upon this occasion: 

“ Hie sita magnanimi Medicis sunt ossa Joannis: 

Quanto heu privata est urbsque, domusque viro ! 

Fratre Petro, patriaeque bonis, Cosmoque parente, 

Ac tanto rerum culmine dignus erat.” 

The death of Giovanni de’ Medici may afford a useful lesson: and I shall not con¬ 
ceal from my readers, that in the manuscript I have before cited, entitled, “ Origine e 
descendenza della casa de’ Medici,” this event is said to have been attributed to high 
living. “ Molti vogliono che tal morte ci Giovanni derivasse dal soverchio here e 
mangiare, perche era di natura caldissimo, e bevendo e mangiando tutte robe calde 
furono poi la cagione della sua morte.” 


32 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

Lorenzo soon dispelled this temporary gloom, and exalted 
his family to a degree of reputation and splendour, of which 
it is probable that Cosmo himself had scarcely formed an idea. 

The kindness and attention shewn by Cosmo to men of 

celebrity of learning were not without their reward. His vir- 
cosmo de- Me- tues and his liberality were their most frequent topic. 

In every event of his life they were ready to 
attend him, to participate with him in his prosperity, and to 
sympathize with him in his misfortunes. The affectionate 
epistles addressed to him by Poggio on his banishment to 
Padua, and on his recall to Florence, exhibit a proof, not only 
of the sincere esteem, but of the high admiration of their 
author. Of the continued attachment of Leonardo Aretino 
to his great patron, innumerable evidences remain. Amongst 
the eminent men of the time, who endeavoured to console 
him for the untimely loss of his son, was Pius II. who ad¬ 
dressed to him a Latin epistle, to which Cosmo replied with 
great propriety and dignity, and in a style not inferior to 
that of this learned pontiff . 56 To the poem of Alberto Avo- 
gradi, we have before had occasion to refer . 57 A considera¬ 
ble number of works, as well in verse as in prose, inscribed 
to him on different occasions, were, after his death, collected 
together by Bartolomeo Scala, and are yet preserved in the 
Laurentian Library, under the name of Collediones Cos - 
miance , 58 

56 These letters will be found in the Appendix, No. IV. 

57 “ De Religione et Magnificentia Illustris Cosmi Medices Florentine” By which 
however the author only means to celebrate the buildings erected by Cosmo for 
public and private use. Accordingly, in his first book he adverts to the churches of 
S. Marco and S. Lorenzo, the dormitory of the convent of S. Croce, the chapels of Bos- 
chetti and Monte Averno, and the monastery of Fiesole, of each of which he gives a 
description. He also alludes to the intention which Cosmo had then formed, and 
which he afterwards executed, of erecting at Jerusalem a house of reception for 
poor and infirm pilgrims, in which it seems he had to contend with the prejudices of 
the Saracens. 

-“ Domini tu sancta sepulchra 

Quae sunt Jerusalem condecorasse paras, 

Magna parat Cosmus, sed tu, Saladine, recusas, 

0 rapiant sensus, ista negata, tuos.” 

In the second book Avogradi recounts, in similar language, the magnificence of the 
palaces and other buildings erected by Cosmo for secular purposes. 

58 Plut. liv. Cog. 10. This manuscript consist of seventy-two distinct pieces, 
composing a large volume in quarto, with the portrait of Cosmo prefixed to the 
work, which is also preceded by a short introductory epistle from Scala to Lorenzo 
de’ Medici. 


1453.] LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 33 

But perhaps the most extraordinary production that soli¬ 
cited the patronage of Cosmo, was the Hernia - 
phroditus of Antonio Beccatelli, or, as he is usually ca ^|° nio Bec ' 
called from Palermo, the place of his birth, An¬ 
tonio Panhormita. 59 When the respectability and situation 
of Beccatelli are considered, our surprise must be excited on 
finding him the avowed author of a production so grossly 
indecent as the Hermaphroditus; when we advert to the 
age and character of Cosmo de’ Medici, it is no less extra¬ 
ordinary that he should be the patron to whom it is inscribed. 

Beccatelli did not however escape without reprehension, 
for thus indulging, at an advanced age, a pruriency of ima- 
ginaton not excusable at any time of life. Amongst others, 
Pilelfo and Lorenzo Valla exclaimed against his licentious¬ 
ness. Invectives against the author were likewise poured 
out from the pulpit, and he was burnt in effigy at Perrara, 
and afterwards at Milan. Valla had the charity to hope, 
that the third time the author might be burnt in his proper 
person. 60 Even Poggio, who in his Facetiae had not con¬ 
fined himself within the strict limits of decorum, thought it 
necessary to remonstrate with his friend Beccatelli on the 
indecency of his work, though he highly commends its ele¬ 
gance and latinity. Beccatelli attempted to excuse his per¬ 
formance by the authority of the ancient Greek and Roman 
writers, but his reply may rather be considered as a repeti¬ 
tion than as a justification of his offence. 61 On the con- 


59 Beccatelli was born of a respectable family, in 1394, and was for some years a 
public professor of history and letters at Pavia, where he enjoyed the protection of 
Filippo Visconti, duke of Milan, and a salary of eight hundred gold crowns. After 
having received the laurel by the favour of the emperor Sigismund, he went to 
the court of Alfonso, king of Naples, in whose employ he passed the remainder of 
his days, honoured with the office of his secretary and counsellor, and the constant 
companion both of his studies and his military expeditions. His “ Dicta et facta Al- 
phonsi Regis Arragoniae,” in four hooks, were commented on by .Eneas Sylvius (pope 
Pius II.), and have been frequently printed. His epistles and orations were pub¬ 
lished at Venice in 1553. His “ Hermaphroditus” is divided into two books, contain¬ 
ing short epigrammatic poems on a variety of subjects. Some of the least exception¬ 
able may be found at the end of his “ Epistolae et Orationes,” (Ven. 1553,) and others in 
the “ Carmina illustrium Poetarum Italorum,” vol. ii. p. 109. The remainder have been 
strictly confined within the limits of the Laurentian Library. (Since writing the 
above, I have found a MS. copy of the “ Hermaphroditus,” in the Library at Holkham, 
and have seen an impression of it, with other pieces of the same character, printed at 
Paris, 1791.) 

60 Zeno Dissert. Voss. vol. i. p. 316. 61 Beccatelli Epist. lib. iv. p. 80. 

3 


34 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

trary, there were men of known talents who expressed their 
thorough approbation of this performance. A commenda¬ 
tory epistle of Guarino Veronese is prefixed to the manu¬ 
script copy of it in the Laurentian Library, in which he 
defends Beccatelli, by alleging the example of St. Jerome. 

One of the most striking, though not the most pleasing 
features in the history of the fifteenth century, is 
reis. eraryquar * exhibited in the frequent and violent dissensions 
which occurred amongst the most distinguished 
scholars of the time. In some instances, these disputes 
arose between the chiefs of the two leading sects of philo¬ 
sophy ; whilst in others the contest was more personal, and 
originated in the high opinion entertained by the disputants 
of their own respective merits. The controversy between 
cardinal Bessarion and George Trapezuntius, or of Trebi- 
Bessarion and sonc l was of the former kind. A Greek by birth, 
George of Tre- Bessarion had early imbibed the doctrines of Plato. 

Having attained the dignity of Bishop of Nice, 
he attended in his public capacity the council of Plorence, 
and was one of the disputants on the part of the Greeks. 
Whether Bessarion was alarmed at the disorderly state of 
his own country, or whether he found himself influenced by 
the arguments of his opponent, is uncertain; but soon after 
his return to Constantinople, he paid another visit to Italy, 
where he passed the remainder of his days. His learning 
and his integrity recommended him to Eugenius IV. who, 
in the year 1439, honoured him with the purple ; and it has 
been said, that a mistake made by his secretary, prevented 
him from obtaining the pontifical dignity; but the futility 
of this tale of Jovius has been sufficiently exposed by Hody. 62 
That he had nearly arrived at that honour is however cer¬ 
tain ; and his more fortunate competitor Pius II. endea¬ 
voured to console him for his disappointment, by bestowing 
upon him the empty title of Patriarch of Constantinople. 
In the year 1468, Bessarion gave a striking proof of his 
munificence and love of literature, by presenting his very 
valuable collection of Greek and Latin manuscripts to the 

62 Hodius de Graecis illustribus, Lond. 1742,p. 146. It is however related by Mr. 
Gibbon, b. xii. c. 66. 


LORENZO De’ MEDICI. 


35 


1453.] 

state of Venice, to be deposited in the church of St. Mark. 
His letter to the senate on this occasion, gives us a most 
favourable idea of his temper and character. 63 George, 
though called of Trebisond, was a Cretan by birth, who, 
after having taught in different parts of Italy, was at length 
called to Rome by Nicholas V. and nominated one of the 
apostolic secretaries. His arrogant and haughty temper 
soon offended the Pope, and he was compelled to spend the 
remainder of his days in seeking a precarious subsistence in 
different parts of Greece and Italy. The dispute between 
him and Bessarion was occasioned by Theodore Gaza, who 
published a treatise against the Platonic philosophy, and in 
commendation of the opinions of Aristotle, to which Bessa¬ 
rion opposed a temperate and well-written reply. Gaza, 
overpowered by the arguments, or the authority of his ad¬ 
versary, dechned any further controversy; but George of 
Trebisond boldly came forward to the relief of the declin¬ 
ing cause of Aristotle, and in several invectives against the 
Platonists, endeavoured to throw an odium on their doctrines 
and their morals; insomuch, that there is scarcely a crime 
with which he hesitates to charge them, or a public calamity 
which he does not ascribe to the prevalence of their system. 
This attack again called forth Bessarion, who, in his treatise 
In Calumniatorem Platonis , 64 is considered as having ob¬ 
tained a complete victory over his opponent. Other learned 
Greeks then in Italy joined in the debate. The Italians 
were indeed silent spectators of the controversy; but the 
eloquence of Bessarion, and the example and patronage of 
the Medici, overpowered the partisans of Aristotle, and the 
Platonic academy, instituted by Cosmo, acquired additional 
strength, till by the countenance and support of his grand¬ 
son Lorenzo, it arrived at its highest pitch of eminence. 

A debate of this nature on an important subject, if kept 
within the bounds of decorum, affects not the 
disputants with any degree of opprobium, except Fil ^ f o 81 ° and 
so far as it may attach to the erroneousness of 

63 Lettere di Principi, vol. i. p. 2. 

64 First printed by Sweynheim and Pannartz at Rome, about 1470, and several 
times afterwards, particularly by Aldus in 1516. 


36 THE LIFE OF [CH. I. 

their opinions, or the futility of their arguments; but this 
applies not to the other kind of controversy to which I have 
before alluded, and of which the age in question produced 
frequent instances. The turbulent and vindictive temper of 
Pilelfo has already been animadverted on. Unwearied in 
soliciting the favours of the great, he often extorted pro¬ 
mises which were never meant to be performed, but the 
breach of which infallibly brought down the weight of his 
resentment. Almost all the sovereigns of Italy were suc¬ 
cessively the subject of his indecent satire, or his exagge¬ 
rated complaints. He did not however escape without full 
retribution for the abuse which he so liberally dealt around 
him. In Poggio, he met with an antagonist, that, if possi¬ 
ble, exceeded him in rancour and scurrility. Their dispute 
commenced in an attack made by Pilelfo on the character of 
Niccolo Niccoli, which, if we give credit even to his friend 
Leonardo Aretino, was not perfectly immaculate. 65 This 
gave occasion to the Invectiva of Poggio against Pilelfo. 
If we for a moment suppose there could have been the 
slightest foundation for the charges exhibited against Pilelfo 
in these pieces, he must have been a monster of depravity. 
After reproaching him with the meanness of his birth, Poggio 
pursues his track from place to place, successively accusing 
him of fraud, ingratitude, theft, adultery, and yet more 
scandalous crimes. The voyage of Pilelfo to Constantinople 
was undertaken to shelter himself from punishment s The 
kindness of Chrysoloras, who received him destitute and 
friendless into his house, he repaid by debauching his 
daughter, whom Chrysoloras was therefore obliged to bestow 
upon him in marriage. Not satisfied with serious invective, 
Poggio has also introduced his adversary in his Facetice; 
and Pilelfo will long be remembered as the original Hans 
Carvel of Prior, and La Pontaine. 66 The contentions of 

65 For a curious instance of this, see Leonardo Aretini Ep. tom. ii. p. 17. 

66 Dr. Warton (Essay on Pope, vol. ii. p. 68) traces the genealogy of this curious 
tale from Poggio to Rabelais, “ who,” says he, “ inserted it in his eighth book, and 
thirty-third chapter; it was afterwards related in a book called the Hundred Novels. 
Ariosto finishes his fifth satire with it. Malespini also made use of it. Fontaine, 
who imagined Rabelais to be the inventor of it, was the sixth author who delivered 
it, as our Prior was the last, though perhaps not the least spirited.”—Dr. Warton had 


LORENZO De’ MEDICI. 


37 


1453 .] 

Poggio with Lorenzo Valla were carried on with an equal 
degree of rancour and licentiousness; and even his debate 
with Guarino Veronese on the comparative excellence of 
Scipio and Julius Caesar, was sufficiently acrimonious. By 
these quarrels the learned were divided into factions, and 
Leonardo Aretino, Poggio, Niccolo Niccoli, and Beccatelli, 
were opposed to Valla, Niccolo Perotti, and others ; but the 
leaders of these parties often disagreed amongst themselves, 
and scrupled not at times to accuse each other of the most 
scandalous enormities. As these imputations were however 
attended by no very serious consequences, charity would 
lead us to conclude that they were mutually understood to 
be rather contests of skill between these literary gladiators, 
than proofs of real criminality in their respective antago¬ 
nists. The life of a scholar is seldom stained by atrocious 
crimes; but that almost all the learned men of the age 
should have disgraced themselves by so shameless a degree 
of moral turpitude, is surely a supposition beyond the bounds 
of credibility. 

Cosmo now approached the period of his mortal exist¬ 
ence, but the faculties of his mind yet remained 
unimpaired. About twenty days before his death, ch^ISer a of 
when his strength was visibly on the decline, de ’ Me_ 
he entered into conversation with Picino, and, 
whilst the faint beams of a setting sun seemed to accord 
with his situation and his feelings, began to lament the 
miseries of life, and the imperfections inseparable from 
human nature. As he continued his discourse, his senti¬ 
ments and his views became more elevated; and from be¬ 
wailing the lot of humanity, he began to exult in the pros¬ 
pect of that happier state towards which he felt himself 
approaching. Picino replied by citing corresponding senti¬ 
ments from the Athenian sages, and particularly from 
Xenocrates; and the last task imposed by Cosmo on his 
philosophic attendant, was to translate from the Greek the 

this information from the Menagiana; but he has mistaken his authority, in placing 
the writings of Rabelais before the well known work of the Cent Nouvelles Nou- 
velles, which is more ancient by nearly a century. Even Ariosto was prior to Rabelais, 
who was only the fourth amongst these “ Hogs of Westphalv.’’ Of this Menage was 
well aware. Menag. vol. i. p. 369. 


38 the life of [ch. i. 

treatise of that author on death. 6 ? Having prepared his 
mind to wait with composure the awful event, his next con¬ 
cern was the welfare of his surviving family, to whom he 
was desirous of imparting, in a solemn manner, the result 
of the experience of a long and active life. Calling into 
his chamber his wife Contessina, and his son Piero, he en¬ 
tered into a narrative of all his public transactions ; he gave 
a full account of his extensive mercantile connections, and 
adverted to the state of his domestic concerns. To Piero 
he recommended a strict attention to the education of his 
sons, of whose promising talents he expressed his hopes and 
his approbation. He requested that his funeral might be 
conducted with as much privacy as possible, and concluded 
his paternal exhortations with declaring his willingness to 
submit to the disposal of Providence, whenever he should 
be called upon. These admonitions were not lost on Piero, 
who communicated by letter to Lorenzo and Giuliano the 
impression which they had made upon his own mind. 68 At 
the same time, sensible of his own infirmities, he exhorted 
them to consider themselves not as children, but as men, 
seeing that circumstances rendered it necessary to put their 
abilities to an early proof. A physician , says Piero, is hourly 
expected to arrive from Milan , but for my own part, I place 
my confidence in God. Either the physician did not arrive, or 
Piero’s distrust of him was well founded, for, about six days 
afterwards, being the 1st day of August, 1464, Cosmo 
died, at the age of seventy-five years, deeply lamented by 
a great majority of the citizens of Florence, whom he had 
firmly attached to his interest, and who feared for the safety 
of the city from the dissensions that were likely to ensue. 69 

The character of Cosmo de’ Medici exhibits a combina- 


67 This information we derive from the introduction of Ficino to his translation of 
that work, inserted in the “ Collectiones Cosmianse.” 

68 This letter yet remains, and gives us a very interesting account of the conduct 
of Cosmo shortly before his death. I have therefore inserted it in the Appendix, 
from the collection of Fabroni. App. No. V. 

69 In the Ricordi of Piero de’ Medici is a particular account of the death of his 
father, a character of whom is there given, drawn with great truth and simplicity by 
the hand of filial affection. It is with pleasure I illustrate my work with these 
authentic documents. The family of the Medici thus become their own historians. 
App. No. VI. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


39 


1453.] 

tion of virtues and endowments rarely to be found united 
in the same person. If in his public works he was remark¬ 
able for his magnificence, he was no less conspicuous for his 
prudence in private life. Whilst in the character of chief of 
the Florentine republic, he supported a constant intercourse 
with the sovereigns of Europe, his conduct in Florence was 
divested of all ostentation, and neither in his retinue, his 
friendships, or his conversation, could he be distinguished 
from any other respectable citizen. He well knew the 
jealous temper of the Florentines, and preferred the real en¬ 
joyment of authority, to that open assumption of it, which 
could only have been regarded as a perpetual insult, by 
those whom he permitted to gratify their own pride, in the 
reflection that they were the equals of Cosmo de’ Medici . 70 

In affording protection to the arts of architecture, paint¬ 
ing, and sculpture, which then began to revive in Italy, 
Cosmo set the great example to those who, by their rank, 
and their riches, could alone afford them effectual aid. The 
countenance shewn by him to those arts, was not of that 
kind which their professors generally experience from the 
great; it was not conceded as a bounty, nor received as a 
favour; but appeared in the friendship and equality that 
subsisted between the artist and his patron . 71 In the erec¬ 
tion of the numerous public buildings in which Cosmo ex¬ 
pended incredible sums of money, he principally availed 
himself of the assistance of Michellozzo Michellozzi and 
Filippo Brunelleschi; the first of whom was a man of talents, 
the latter of genius .* 2 Soon after his return from banish- 


70 V. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 89. 

71 Of this nature was the intercourse between Cosmo and Donatello. The trea¬ 
sures of the citizen were applied, under the direction of the sculptor, to the acquisi¬ 
tion of the most beautiful specimens of ancient art. Donatello survived his patron; 
but Cosmo on his death recommended him to the attention of Piero his son, who 
amply provided for the wants of his age. Donatello died in 1466, and was buried 
in the church of S. Lorenzo, adjoining to the sepulchre of Cosmo, according to his 
own directions; for which he alleged as a reason, that as his soul had always been 
with Cosmo whilst living, so he desired their bodies might be near each other when 
dead. 

73 Before the time of Brunelleschi, the Italians had imitated in their public build¬ 
ings the Gothic structures of their German neighbours. He was the first who at¬ 
tempted to restore the Grecian orders of architecture, and under his control this im¬ 
portant branch of art attained a degree of perfection which it had not known from 
the times of the ancients. 


40 THE LIFE OF [CH. I. 

ment, Cosmo engaged these two artists to form the plan of 
a mansion for his own residence. Brunelleschi gave scope 
to his invention, and produced the design of a palace which 
might have suited the proudest sovereign in Europe; but 
Cosmo was led by that prudence which, in his personal ac¬ 
commodation, regulated all his conduct, to prefer the plan 
of Michellozzi, which united extent with simplicity, and 
elegance with convenience.? 3 With the consciousness, Bru¬ 
nelleschi possessed also the irritability of genius, and in a 
fit of vexation he destroyed a design which he unjustly con¬ 
sidered as disgraced by its not being carried into execution. 74 
Having completed his dwelling, Cosmo indulged his taste 
in ornamenting it with the most precious remains of ancient 
art, and in the purchase of vases, statues, busts, gems, and 
medals, expended no inconsiderable sum. Nor was he less 
attentive to the merits of those artists whom his native place 
had recently produced. With Masaccio a better style of 
painting had arisen, and the cold and formal manner of 
Giotto and his disciples had given way to more natural and 
expressive composition. In Cosmo de’ Medici this rising 
artist found his most liberal patron and protector. Some 
of the works of Masaccio were executed in the chapel of the 
Brancacci, where they were held in such estimation, that the 
place was regarded as a school of study by the most 
eminent artists who immediately succeeded him. Even the 
celebrated Michelagnolo, when observing these paintings 
many years afterwards, in company with his honest and lo¬ 
quacious friend Vasari, did not hesitate to express his 
decided approbation of their merits. The reputation of 
Masaccio was emulated by his disciple Eilippo Lippi, who 
executed for Cosmo and his friends many celebrated pictures, 
of which Vasari has given a minute account. Cosmo how- 


73 This venerable edifice is now the residence of the noble family of Riccardi, who, 
in the year 1659, purchased it from the Grand-Duke Ferdinand II. Under the 
auspices of its present owner, the Marquess Riccardi, whose extensive collection of 
manuscripts and antiquities is open to public inspection, this mansion yet emulates 
its ancient glory. 

74 Cosmo had employed Brunelleschi in completing the church of S. Lorenzo, and 
in erecting the church and monastery of S. Bartolomeo, and acknowledged him, on 
all occasions, as the first architect of his time. After his death Cosmo also raised 
a monument to his memory. Fab. in vita Cos. vol. i. p. 155. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


41 


1453 .] 

ever, found no small difficulty in controlling the temper and 
regulating the eccentricities of this extraordinary character . 75 
If the efforts of these early masters did not reach the true 
end of the art, they afforded considerable assistance towards 
it; and whilst Masaccio and Filippo decorated with their 
admired productions the altars of churches and the apart¬ 
ments of princes, Donatello gave to marble a proportion of 
form, a vivacity of expression, to which his contemporaries 
imagined that nothing more was wanting; Brunelleschi 
raised the great dome of the cathedral of Florence; and 
Ghiberti cast in brass the stupendous doors of the Church 
of St. John, which Michelagnolo deemed worthy to be the 
gates of Paradise. 

In his person Cosmo was tall; in his youth he possessed 
the advantage of a prepossessing countenance; what age 
had taken from his comeliness, it had added to his dignity, 
and in his latter years, his appearance was so truly vene¬ 
rable, as to have been the frequent subject of panegyric. 
His manner was grave and complacent, but upon many oc¬ 
casions he gave sufficient proofs that this did not arise from 
a want of talents for sarcasm; and the fidelity of the Flo¬ 
rentine historians has preserved many of his shrewd obser¬ 
vations and remarks. When Binaldo de’ Albizi, who was 
then in exile, and meditated an attack upon his native place, 
sent a message to Cosmo, importing that the hen would 
shortly hatch, he replied, She will hatch with an ill grace out 
of her own nest. On another occasion, when his adversa¬ 
ries gave him to understand that they were not sleeping, 
I believe it , said Cosmo, I have spoiled their sleep.—Of what 
colour is my hair ? said Cosmo, uncovering his head, to the 
ambassadors of Venice who came with a complaint against 


75 His attachment to women was extreme; and if the favourite object resisted his 
assiduities, he found some consolation in painting her likeness. By this uncon¬ 
querable propensity his labours were often interrupted, and an expedient adopted by 
Cosmo to remedy it nearly cost Filippo his life. Having engaged the painter to com¬ 
plete a piece of work for him, Cosmo made him a prisoner in his chamber; but a 
confinement of two days exhausted the patience of the artist. At the risk of his life 
he made his escape through the windows and devoted himself for several days to his 
pleasures, nor did he return till sought out and solicited by Cosmo, who heartily re¬ 
pented of a proceeding which, however friendly in its motive, was certainly somewhat 
too arbitrary. 


42 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. I. 

the Florentines. White , they replied. It will not be long , 
said Cosmo, before that of your senators will be so too. 
Shortly before his death, his wife inquiring why he closed 
his eyes, That I may accustom them to it , was his reply. 

If, from considering the private character of Cosmo, 
we attend to his conduct as the moderator and director of 
the Florentine republic, our admiration of his abilities will 
increase with the extent of the theatre upon which he had 
to act. So important were his mercantile concerns, that 
they often influenced in a very remarkable degree the poli¬ 
tics of Italy. When Alfonso, king of Naples, leagued with 
the Venetians against Florence, Cosmo called in such im¬ 
mense debts from those places, as deprived them of re¬ 
sources for carrying on the war. 76 During the contest 
between the Houses of York and Lancaster, one of his agents 
in England was resorted to by Edward IV. for a sum of 
money, which was accordingly furnished, to such an extra¬ 
ordinary amount, that it might almost be considered as the 
means of supporting that monarch on the throne, and was 
repaid when his successes enabled him to fulfil his engage¬ 
ment. 77 The alliance of Cosmo was sedulously courted by 
the princes of Italy ; and it was remarked, that by a happy 
kind of fatality, whoever united their interests with his, 
were always enabled either to repress or to overcome their ad¬ 
versaries. By his assistance the republic of Venice resisted 
the united attacks of Filippo Duke of Milan, and of the 
French nation; but when deprived of his support, the Ve¬ 
netians were no longer able to withstand their enemies. 
With whatever difficulties Cosmo had to encounter, at home 
or abroad, they generally terminated in the acquisition of 

76 Mac. 1st. Fior. lib. vii. 

77 “ La Maison de Medicis estoit la plus grande, que je croy que jamais ait este au 
monde : car leurs serviteurs et facteurs ont eu tant de credit soups couleur de ce nom 
de Medicis, queceseroit merveilles, a croire a ce que j’en ay veu en Flandres et en 
Angleterre. J’en ai veu un appele Guerard Quanvese presque estre occasion de 
soutenir le Roy Edouard le quart en son etat, estant guerre en son royaume d’Angle¬ 
terre, et fournir par fois au dit roy plus de six vingt mille escus: oix il fit peu de profit 
pour son maitre : toutes fois il recouvra ses pieces a la longue. Un autre ay vu 
nomine e appele Thomas Portunary, estre pleige entre le dit roy Edouard et le Due 
Charles de Bourgogne, pour cinquante mille escus, et une autre fois en un lieu, pour 
quatre vingt mille.” Mem. de P. de Commines ap. Fabr. in vita Laurentii, vol. ii. 
p. 224. 


1453 . 


LORENZO DE ? MEDICI. 


43 


additional honour to his country and to himself. The esteem 
and gratitude of his fellow-citizens were fully shewn a short 
time before his death, when by a public decree he was 
honoured with the title of Pater Patrice , an appellation 
which was inscribed on his tomb, and which, as it was 
founded on real merit, has ever since been attached to the 
name of Cosmo de’ Medici. 



Cosmo de’Medici with, his Son Piero and his Grandsons, lorenzo and Giuliano, 
from a Picture of Prance sco Be Belli, in the Liverpool Royal Institution . 



































































































































































Medal of Sigismondo Pmdolfo Malatesta. 


CHAPTER II. 

1464 — 1469 . 

Early accomplishments of Lorenzo — Education—Lorenzo visits different parts of 
Italy—Conduct of Piero—Conspiracy of Luca Pitti—Frustrated by Lorenzo — 
The exiles instigate the Venetians to attack the Florentines—Battle near Bologna — 
Piero promotes the interests of learning—Leo Battista Alberti—Cristoforo Landino 
—Piero patronises other eminent scholars—Giostra of Lorenzo and, Giuliano — 
Poem of Luca Pulci—Poem of Angelo Politiano — Disputationes Camal- 
dulenses — Lorenzo's description of his mistress—Sonnets in her praise—Lucretia 
Donati the object of his passion—Lorenzo marries Clarice Orsini—Visits the Duke 
of Milan—Death of Piero de' Medici. 

Lorenzo de’ Medici was about sixteen years of age when 
Cosmo died, and had at that time given striking 
pu S hmen C ts°of indications of extraordinary talents. From his 
L °I?d. Z i 464. earliest years he had exhibited proofs of a retentive 

and vigorous mind, which was cultivated, not only 
by all the attention which his father’s infirmities would permit 
him to bestow, but by a frequent intercourse with his vene¬ 
rable grandfather. He owed also great obligations in this 
respect to his mother Lucretia, who was one of the most 
v^ccomplished women of the age, and distinguished not only 
as a patroness of learning, but by her own writings. Of 
these some specimens yet remain, which are the more en¬ 
titled to approbation, as they were produced at a time when 
poetry was at its lowest ebb in Italy . 1 The disposition of 

1 Several of her Laudi, or hymns, are printed in the collection of sacred poems 
by the Medici family, published by Cionacci at Florence, 1680, and since reprinted 
at Bergamo in 1763; but a much more favourable specimen of her talents is given 











LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


45 


1464.] 

Lorenzo, which afterwards gave him a peculiar claim to the — 
title of magnificent , was apparent in his childhood. 2 Having 
received as a present a horse from Sicily, he sent the donor 
in return a gift of much greater value; and on being reproved 
for his profuseness, he remarked that there was nothing more 
glorious than to overcome others in acts of generosity. Of 
his proficiency in classical learning, and the different branches 
of that philosophy which was then in repute, he has left 
indisputable proofs. Born to restore the lustre of his native _ 
tongue, he had rendered himself conspicuous by his poetical 
talents before he arrived at manhood. To these accomplish¬ 
ments he united a considerable share of strong natural pene¬ 
tration and good sense, which enabled him, amidst the many 
difficulties that he was involved in, to act with a prompti¬ 
tude and decision which surprised those who were witnesses 
of his conduct; whilst the endowments which entitled him 
to admiration and respect were accompanied by others that 
conciliated, in an eminent degree, the esteem and affection 
of his fellow-citizens. 

Tall in his stature, robust in his form, Lorenzo had in his — 
person more the appearance of strength than of elegance. 
From his birth he laboured under some peculiar disadvan¬ 
tages ; his sight was weak, his voice harsh and unpleasing, — 
and he was totally deprived of the sense of smell. With all 
these defects his countenance was dignified, and strongly 
indicated the magnanimity of his character; and the effects 
of his eloquence were conspicuous on many important occa--— 
sions. In his youth he was much addicted to active and 
laborious exercises, to hawking, horsemanship, and country^ 
sports. Though not born to support a military character, 
he gave sufficient proofs of his courage, not only in public 
tournaments, which were then not unfrequent in Italy, but 
also upon more trying occasions. Such was the versatility 
of his talents, that it is difficult to discover any department 
of business, or of amusement, of art, or of science, to which 

by Crescimbeni, (Della volgar Poesia, vol. iii. p. 277,) who is of opinion that she 
excelled the greater part of, not to say all, the poets of her time. Her versifications 
of scripture history, though never printed, are noticed by Luigi Pulci, in his 
Morgante, which poem he was induced to complete by her encouragement. 

* V. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 91. 


46 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. II. 

they were not at some time applied; and in whatever he 
undertook, he arrived at a proficiency which would seem to 
have required the labour of a life much longer than that 
which he was permitted to enjoy. 

Under the institution of Gentile d’Urbino, who after¬ 
wards, by the patronage of his pupil, became 
wnzo! ion ° f bishop of Arezzo, Lorenzo received the first rudi¬ 
ments of his education, and from the instructions 
of his tutor, aided perhaps by the exhortations of his pious 
mother, acquired that devotional temper which is so conspi¬ 
cuous in some of his writings. This disposition was how¬ 
ever only occasional, nor was the mind of Lorenzo over¬ 
shaded with the habitual gloom of the professed devotee. 
In his hours of seriousness, or of sickness, the impressions 
made upon him by his early instructors became sufficiently 
apparent; but the vivacity of his temper often hurried him 
to a contrary extreme; and the levity, not to say the licen¬ 
tiousness, of some of his writings, is strikingly contrasted 
with the piety and seriousness of his other productions. 
The vigour of his intellect seems to have thrown an indiscri¬ 
minate lustre on every object that presented itself. So 
various, yet so extensive were his powers, that they are 
scarcely reconcileable to that consistency of character with 
which the laws of human nature seldom dispense. 

In superintending the subsequent progress of Lorenzo, 
several other persons eminent for their learning concurred. 
In the year 1457, Cristoforo Landino was appointed by the 
magistracy of Florence to the office of public professor of 
poetry and rhetoric in that city, and was soon afterwards 
intrusted by Piero de’ Medici with the instruction of his two 
sons. Between Landino and his pupil Lorenzo a reciprocal 
attachment took place; and such was the opinion that the 
master entertained of the judgment of his scholar, that he 
is said frequently to have submitted his various and learned 
works to his perusal and correction. In the Greek language, 
in ethics, and in the principles of the Aristotelian philosophy, 
Lorenzo had the advantage of the precepts of the learned 
Argyropylus, and in those of the Platonic sect he was sedu¬ 
lously instructed by Marsilio Picino, for whom he retained 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


47 


1465.] 

through life an unalterable friendship. But for many of his 
accomplishments he was not indebted to any preceptor. 
That exquisite taste in poetry, in music, and in every depart¬ 
ment of the fine arts, which enabled him to contribute so 
powerfully towards their restoration, was an endowment of 
nature, the want of which no education could have supplied. 

With such qualifications, Lorenzo, soon after the death of 
his ^grandfather, entered on the stage of public life; 
for it was the laudable custom of the Florentines, 
early to habituate their youth to serious and important occu¬ 
pations. Besides, the infirmities of Piero de’ Medici rendered 
such a coadjutor as Lorenzo was likely to prove, of great im¬ 
portance to him. His domestic education being therefore 
completed, his father judged it expedient for him to visit 
some of the principal courts of Italy; not so much for the 
purpose of gratifying an idle curiosity, as to conciliate, by a 
personal intercourse, the friendship of those with whom he 
was in future to maintain a correspondence on matters of 
great moment, and to inform himself of such local circum¬ 
stances as might enable him to t ransa ct the affairs of the 
republic with every possible advantage. In the year 1465, 
he had an interview at Pisa with the son of Ferdinand king 
of Naples, Federigo, who after the death of his eldest bro¬ 
ther Alfonso, and his nephew Federigo, succeeded to the 
crown. This prince was then on his journey to Milan, to 
escort Ippolita, the daughter of Francesco Sforza, from thence 
to Naples, where she was to marry his elder brother Alfonso, 
duke of Calabria. 3 At this interview some instances of 
mutual respect and attachment took place between Federigo 
and Lorenzo, which we shall hereafter have occasion to 
relate. 

In the following year Lorenzo made a visit to Rome, 
where he was kindly received by Paul II. one of the most 
arrogant pontiffs that ever sat in the chair of St. Peter. A 
few months afterwards he proceeded through Bologna and 
Ferrara to Venice, and thence to Milan. During his absence 
he had frequent letters from his father, several of which yet 
remain, and sufficiently evince the confidence that Piero 

3 Muratori, Annali d’ltalia, vol. ix. p. 493. 


48 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. II. 

placed in his son, with whom he enters into a detail of all 
political occurrences, and to whom he transmits such letters 
of importance as were received on public affairs during his 
absence. 4 That the respect paid by Piero to the judgment 
of Lorenzo did not arise from a blind partiality, may appear 
from the intercourse that already subsisted between Lorenzo 
and some of the most celebrated scholars of the age; several 
of whom, on his occasional absence from Florence, addressed 
themselves to him by letter, as their acknowledged patron 
and warmest friend. 5 

The death of Pius II. who had preceded Paul II. in the 

conduct of pontifical chair, happened a few days after that of 
Piero de 1 Me- Cosmo de’ Medici, and not long afterwards died 
Francesco Sforza, duke of Milan, who had go¬ 
verned that state with great ability for the space of sixteen 
years. 6 This event gave no small alarm to Piero de’ Medici, 
whose family had long supported a close intimacy with that 

^ App. No. VII. 

5 Some specimens of these, which have been preserved in the Palazzo Vecchio at 

Florence, and not before published, are given in the Appendix, No. VIII. The first 
is an extract of an Italian letter from the celebrated Luigi Pulci, the author of the 
“ Morgante,” and is as strongly marked by affection for Lorenzo, as by the whimsical 
peculiarities of its author’s character. The second is from Peregrino Allio, whose 
Latin poems in the “ Carmina Illust. Poet.” vol. i. p. 12, are a better testimony of his 
abilities than the exaggerated account of Negri (Scrittori Fiorentini, p. 450). “ Fu 

mostrato non dato al mondo questo mostro d’ ingegno e di memoria; affinche si 
vedesse che nel secolo de’ Ficini, de’ Mirandolani, de’ Benevieni, de’ Barbari, de’ 
Poliziani, ingegni tutti portentosi e grandissimi, poteva ancora far qualche cosa di 
piu maraviglioso la natura.” This author is mistaken in placing the death of Allio 
in 1458, although the accurate Bandini has in this instance adopted his authority. 
(Negri, 450. Band. Spec. Lit. Flor. p. 204.) I have before cited the epitaph by 
Allio on Giovanni de’ Medici, the son of Cosmo, who died in 1463; and amongst 
the letters which I have procured from the Palazzo Vecchio, is one from him to 
Lorenzo, dated the 25th of May, 1466. That he died young may however be in¬ 
ferred from Verini. (De illustr. Urbis, p. 34.) 

“ Te pariter juvenem tetricae rapuere sorores: 
iEquasses priscos, Alii Peregrine, poetas.” 

6 The Sforza were a family of adventurers. Sforza degli Attendogli, the father 
of Franceso, from the condition of a peasant, acquired such a high degree of mili¬ 
tary reputation, as enabled his son, who was also a soldier of fortune, to obtain in 
marriage the daughter of Filippo Maria Visconti, duke of Milan, and the Milanese 
territory, at that period one of the most extensive in Italy, as her portion. According 
to tradition Sforza was employed in turning the soil, when he was invited by some 
of his companions to enter into the army. His determination was a matter of 
difficulty, for the solution of which he resorted to his spade. Throwing it into an 
oak, he declared that if it fell to the ground he would continue his labours; if it 
hung in the tree he would pursue his fortunes. (Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 2.) He 
became the father of a line of princes who were regarded as the most splendid sove¬ 
reigns of Italy, and formed alliances with the chief families in Europe. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


49 


1466.] 


of Sforza, from which they had mutually derived important 
advantages. Lorenzo was then at Rome, where his father 
addressed to him several letters, in some of which his anxiety 
for the peaceable establishment of the widow and children 
of Francesco in the government of Milan is strongly expressed. 
By the death of so many of the Italian princes within so short 
a space of time, the minds of men began to be turned to¬ 
wards new commotions, particularly in Florence, where the 
bodily imbecility of Piero gave grounds to hope that a vigo¬ 
rous attempt to deprive the house of Medici of its influence 
might be crowned with success. Nor was the conduct of 
Piero, on his succession to the immense inheritance of his 
father, calculated to strengthen the friendship of those whom 
Cosmo had attached to his interest. Apprehensive that his 
commercial concerns were too widely extended, and prompted 
by the treacherous advice of Dietisalvo Neroni, a man of 
ability and intrigue, who owed his fortunes to the protection 
and generosity of Cosmo, he began indiscriminately to collect 
the sums of money which his father had advanced to the 
citizens of Florence. The result was such as Neroni expected. 
Those who were friends of the father became enemies of the 
son; and had not Piero discovered the snare, and desisted 
from such rigorous proceedings, he might too late have found, 
that in supporting the character of the merchant, he had 
forgotten that of the statesman. 

Amongst the number of opulent and aspiring citizens 
who had reluctantly submitted to the superior ta- Conspiracy 
lents of Cosmo de’ Medici, was Luca Pitti, whose ofLucawtti. 
name has been transmitted to posterity as the 
founder of the magnificent palace which has for some cen¬ 
turies been the residence of the sovereigns of Tuscany. The 
death of Cosmo, and the infirmities of Piero, afforded an 
opportunity that Luca conceived to be highly favourable to 
his ambitious purposes. Having formed a combination with 
the powerful family of the Acciajuoh, he attempted, in con¬ 
junction with them, to supplant the authority and destroy 
the influence of the Medici with the Magistrates and council 
of Florence. Being defeated in their exertions, they resorted 
to more violent methods, and resolved upon the assassination 

4 




O 


0 


o 


50 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. II. 

of Piero de’ Medici, believing, that if they could succeed in 
such a project, his sons were too young to occasion any 
formidable opposition to their views. Debilitated by the 
gout, Piero was generally carried in a chair by his domestics 
from his house at Careggi to his residence at Plorence. 
Having received intimation of an intended commotion, 
and being alarmed at the sudden approach of Ercole d’Este, 
brother of Borso, marquis of Eerrara, whom the conspirators 
had engaged to enter the territories of the republic, at the 
head of 1300 cavalry, he conceived his presence to be neces¬ 
sary in Elorence, and accordingly set out from Careggi, ac¬ 
companied only by a few attendants. Lorenzo, who had 
left Careggi a short time before his father, was surprised to 
0 find the road to the city beset by armed men, and imme¬ 
diately suspecting their purpose, despatched one of his fol¬ 
lowers to him with directions to proceed by a more retired 
and circuitous path, whilst taking himself the direct road, 
he informed those who inquired with apparent anxiety for 
his father, that he was following at a short distance. By 
these means Lorenzo rescued his father from the impending 
danger, and gave a striking proof of that promptitude of 
mind which so eminently distinguished him on many subse¬ 
quent occasions. 

The suspicions that fell upon Luca Pitti and his party 
induced the conspirators to abandon their design of open 
violence; and the intrigues of the politician were again sub¬ 
stituted for the dagger of the assassin. Encouraged by the 
support of the Marquis of Eerrara, they daily increased in 
numbers and audacity, but when an open contest between 
the opposite parties was hourly expected, and the citizens 
apprehended a renewal of those sanguinary commotions, from 
which, under the guidance of the Medici, they had been a 
long time exempted, Luca suddenly withdrew himself from 
^ his party, and effected a reconciliation with the Medici. Se¬ 
veral of the malcontents followed his example, and their 
desertion gave a decided superiority to the cause of Piero, 
which was also most opportunely strengthened by the appear¬ 
ance of a body of two thousand Milanese troops, that kept in 
awe the army of the insurgents, and frustrated the hopes 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


51 


1466 .] 

founded on its assistance. The friends of the Medici failed 
not to take advantage of this favourable concurrence; Piero 
Acciajuoli and his two sons, Dietisalvo Neroni, and two of 
his brothers, and Niccolo Soderini, with his son Geri, were 
declared enemies of the state, and condemned to banish¬ 
ment. 7 The Archbishop of Florence, who had taken a 
decided part against the Medici, retired to Pome. A few 
other citizens, unable to support their disgrace, adopted a 
voluntary exile; but the kindness of Lorenzo allayed the ap¬ 
prehensions of the greater part of the conspirators, and ren¬ 
dered them in future more favourable to his interests .—He 
only knows how to conquer , said Lorenzo, who knows how to 
forgive. 8 

Though exempted from the fate of the other leaders of 
the faction, Luca experienced a punishment of a more gall¬ 
ing and disgraceful kind. From the high estimation in 
which he had before been held, he fell into the lowest state 
of degradation. The progress of his magnificent palace was 
stopped; the populace, who had formerly vied with each 
other in giving assistance, refused any longer to labour for 
him; many opulent citizens, who had contributed costly 
articles and materials, demanded them back, alleging that 
they were only lent. The remainder of his days was passed 
in obscurity and neglect, but the extensive mansion which 
his pride had planned, still remains to give celebrity to his 
name. 9 

7 Amm. 1st. Fior. vol. iii. p. 99. 

8 Val. in vita, p. 11. Fabr. in vita Laur. vol. i. p. 22. 

9 It is deserving of remark, that Machiavelli is mistaken not only in the period he 
assigns for the commencement of this building, but in the motives that led to it. 
After relating the successful interposition of Luca Pitti in the affairs of the republic, 
in the year 1453, by which he rose to great eminence, and obtained a reward from 
his fellow-citizens, which was supposed to amount to 20,000 ducats, he adds (Hist, 
lib. vii.) “ Donde egli sail in tanta riputatione che non Cosimo ma Messer Luca la 
Citta governava. Da che egli venne in tanto confidanza, ch’ egli incomincio due 
edificii, l’uno a Firenze, l’altro a Ruciano, luogo propinquo un miglio alia citta, tutti 
superbi et regii; ma quello della Citta al tutto maggiore che alcun’ altro che da pri- 
vato cittadino fino a quel giorno fusse stato edificato.” It is however certain, that 
both these palaces were designed, and in part executed, by Filippo Brunelleschi, 
who died in 1446, seven years before the event related by Machiavelli took place. 
(Vasari, in vita di Filippo.) “ Ordino ancor Filippo a M. Luca Pitti, fuor della porta 
a S. Niccolo di Fiorenza, in un luogo detto Ruciano un ricco e manifico palazzo; ma 
non gia a gran pezza simile a quello che per lo medesimo comincio in Firenze, e 
condusse al secondo finestrato, con tanta grandezza et magnificenza, che d’ opera 


52 


THE LIEE OF 


[CH. II. 

The defection of Lnca Pitti, and the consequent esta- 
Frustrated blishment of the authority of the Medici in Flo- 
by Lorenzo. rencej i iave k een uniformly attributed by the Plo- V 
rentine historians to the abilities and prudence of Lorenzo; 
who, instead of resorting to forcible opposition, employed 
his own eloquence and the influence of his friends, in sub¬ 
duing the resentment of his adversaries, and particularly of 
Luca Pitti, whose versatile disposition fluctuated a long time 
between the remonstrances of his associates and the pacific 
representations of Lorenzo. A short time previous to this 
contest, Lorenzo had paid a visit to Naples, probably with a 
view of influencing the king to countenance his cause, in 
case the dissensions at Plorence, which were then a subject 
of alarm, should terminate in an open rupture. The mag¬ 
nanimity of his conduct, as well in defeating this formidable 
^ conspiracy, as in his lenity towards his enemies, extended 
his reputation throughout Italy. No sooner was the result 
known at Naples, than Ferdinando addressed to him a 
letter strongly expressive of admiration and esteem; which 
being the testimony of a monarch whose character for saga¬ 
city and political knowledge was superior to that of any 
other potentate in Europe, must have been highly gratifying 
to the youthful ambition of Lorenzo. 10 The success of 
Lorenzo in this critical business increased also the confi¬ 
dence which his father had before placed in him, and from 
this time he was intrusted with a considerable share in the 
conduct of the republic, as well as in the management of 
the extensive private concerns of the family. But if the 
prudence of Lorenzo was conspicuous in defeating his adver¬ 
saries, it was more so in the use he made of his victory. 
He well knew that humanity and sound policy are insepa¬ 
rable, and either did not feel, or wisely suppressed that vin¬ 
dictive spirit which civil contests seldom fail to excite. “ I 
have heard from my brother Filippo,” says Valori, “ that 
upon his introducing to Lorenzo, for the purpose of recon- 


Toscana, non si e ancor veduta il piu raro, ne il piii magnifico.” This palace was 
afterwards purchased by Leonora of Toledo, wife of Cosmo I. Duke of Florence, and 
was completed under the directions of Bartolomeo Ammanati. 

10 This letter will be found in App. No. IX. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


53 


1466.] 

ciliation, Antonio Tebalducci, who had by different means 
attempted his ruin, Lorenzo, observing that my brother 
hesitated in requesting his indulgence towards an avowed 
enemy, said to him with great kindness, I should owe you 
no obligation, Filippo, for introducing to me a friend; but 
by converting an enemy into a friend, you have done me a 
favour, which I hope you will as often as possible repeat 
The exiled party, which consisted principally of men 
of abilities and intrigue, soon began to stir up The exiks 
new commotions. But Agnolo Acciajuoli, who 
had retreated only to Sienna, was desirous, be- attack the 
fore he engaged in further opposition, of trying Florentines - 
whether a reconciliation with the Medici yet remained 
practicable. His letter to Piero on this subject, and 
the answer it occasioned, are yet extant. 11 Many of the 
other conspirators retired to Venice, where they exerted 
their utmost endeavours to exasperate that formidable state 
against their conntrymen. This attempt might have failed 
of success, had they not, in seeking to gratify their private 
resentment, flattered the ambitious aims of the Venetians 
on the rest of Italy. With this view they insinuated to the 
senate, that the support given by the Plorentines, under the 
influence of Cosmo de’ Medici, to Prancesco Sforza, had en¬ 
abled him to defend his states against their pretensions, and 
prevented their possessing themselves of all Lombardy. 
These representations had their full effect. Under the com¬ 
mand of Bartolomeo Coglione, one of the most celebrated 
commanders of the time, a considerable army was collected 
for the purpose of attacking the states of Plorence. Several 
of the Italian princes joined in person the standard of Bar¬ 
tolomeo, and amongst others Ercole d’Este, Alessandro 
Sforza Prince of Pesaro, the Lords of Eorli, of Eaenza, and 
Mirandula ; insomuch that this army was not more formid¬ 
able for its numbers, than respectable for the rank and the 
talents of its leaders. 

11 Machiavelli informs us that Agnolo withdrew to Naples, and professes to cite 
the particulars of the letters between him and Piero. The accuracy of this historian 
may appear by comparing the authentic letters published in the Appendix, from the 
collection of Fabroni, with the recital of them by Machiavelli in the Seventh Book 
of his History. App. No. X. 


54 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. II. 


Nor were the Florentines in the mean time ignorant 
Battle near of the intended hostilities, or inattentive to their 
Bologna. own defence. Besides the support derived from 
the duke of Milan, the king of Naples sent his son Federigo 
with a powerful reinforcement to their assistance. Galeazzo, 
the young duke of Milan, joined the army in person, as 
did also Giovanni Bentivoglio, prince of Bologna; and 
the command of the whole was intrusted to Federigo 
count of Urbino, whose character as a soldier was not infe¬ 
rior to that of Coglione. The adverse forces approached 
each other near Bologna, but no great alacrity was shewn 
on either side to begin the engagement. Wearied with 
apprehensions, and sinking under the expense of supporting 
so numerous an army, the Florentines began to complain of 
the indecisive conduct of then’ general, which they at length 
understood was chiefly to be attributed to the duke of 
Milan, who, reserving to himself great authority, and having 
little experience in military affairs, threw continual obstacles 
in the way of the chief commander. A message was there¬ 
fore despatched to the duke, requesting his presence in 
Florence, where he soon after arrived, and took up his resi¬ 
dence in the palace of the Medici. 12 The count of Urbino, 
being freed from this restraint, or having no apology for 
longer delay, attacked the advanced guard of the enemy 
under the command of Alessandro Sforza. The engage- 
ad i467 ment soon became general, and continued from 
noon till evening. Machiavelli assures us, that at 
the close of the battle both parties kept the field, that not a 
soldier lost his life, and that only a few horses were wound¬ 
ed, and some prisoners taken ; but historians of more vera¬ 
city have given a different relation. 13 It is, however, cer¬ 
tain, that no important consequences resulted from a contest 
that had excited so much expectation. The troops shortly 
afterwards withdrew into their winter-quarters, which 
afforded the Florentines an opportunity, by the mediation 
of the marquis of Ferrara, of negotiating for a peace. This 
was accordingly effected without any stipulation being intro¬ 
duced on the part of the exiles; and thus the storm which 

12 Ricordi di Lorenzo, in App. No. XI. 13 Amm. vol. iii p. 102. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


55 


1467.] 

seemed for a while to threaten the destruction of the Flo¬ 
rentine state, after having been repressed in its first fury, 
gradually abated, and at length settled in a perfect calm. 

Although Piero de’ Medici was inferior in talents, both 
to his father Cosmo and his son Lorenzo, yet he Piero pro- 
gave repeated proofs of a strong attachment to £°^ ts th G e f 
the cause of letters, and continued an hereditary learnin e* 
protection to those men of learning, who, under the pa¬ 
tronage of his father, had arisen in, or been attracted to 
Florence. In the year 1441 he had been engaged in pro¬ 
moting a literary contest in that city, by proposing a pre¬ 
mium for the best poem on a given subject. The reward 
of the victor was to be a coronet of silver imitating a laurel 
wreath. The secretaries of the pope were appointed to 
decide upon the merits of the candidates. Splendid prepa¬ 
rations were made. Several competitors appeared, and pub¬ 
licly recited their poems; but the laudable intentions of 
Piero were defeated by the folly or the knavery of the eccle¬ 
siastics, who gave the prize to the church of S. Maria, pre¬ 
tending that the merits of the pieces were so nearly equal 
that a decision was impossible. This absurd determination 
occasioned great dissatisfaction to the Florentines, and was 
probably considered not only as obliquely satirizing the can¬ 
didates, but the city itself. 14 

The coadjutor of Piero de’ Medici on this occasion 
was the celebrated Leo Battista Alberti, who, Leo Battista 
independent of his extraordinary talents as an Albertu 
artist, deserves particular notice as one of the earliest 
scholars that appeared in the revival of letters. 15 He 
first distinguished himself by his Latin comedy entitled 
Pldlodoxios , copies of which he distributed amongst his 

14 These poems are however yet preserved in the Laurentian library, Plut. xc. 
cod. xxxviii. The subject is Friendship. The derided candidates were Michele di 
Noferi, Francesco Altobianco, Antonio Allio, afterwards Bishop of Fiesole, Mariotto 
Davanzati, Anselmo Calderoni, and Francesco Malecarni. Pozzetti, somewhat un¬ 
fortunately, denominates this contest “ The triumph of literature.” v. L. B. Alberti, 
Laud, a Pompilio Pozzetti, 4to. Flor. 1789, and Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo 
de’ Medici, p. 94. 

15 Alberti was of a noble family of Florence, but was born at Venice in 1404. In 
his youth he was remarkable for his agility, strength, and skill in bodily exercises. 
An unquenchable thirst of knowledge possessed him from his earliest years. In 
the learned languages he made a speedy and uncommon proficiency, and had perhaps 


56 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. II. 

friends, as the work of Lepidus, an ancient Roman 
poet. The literati were effectually deceived, and be¬ 
stowed the highest applauses upon a piece which they 
conceived to be a precious remnant of antiquity. It first 
appeared about the year 1425, when the rage for ancient 
manuscripts was at its height, and Lepidus for a while took 
his rank with Plautus and with Terence. 16 As Alberti ad¬ 
vanced in years, he turned his attention to practical know¬ 
ledge, and the present times are indebted to him for many 
useful and amusing inventions. 17 In his Latin treatises, 
which have been translated into Italian by Cosimo Bartoli, 
and published under the name of Opuscoli Morali , he 
appears as an author on a great variety of subjects; but he 
is better known by his treatise on architecture, which has 
been translated into many languages. Nor ought it to be 
forgotten, that Alberti made an attempt to reconcile the 
measure of the Latin distich with the genius of his native 
tongue, in which he has been followed by Claudio Tolomei, 
and other writers. 18 

The reputation of Alberti as an architect, though it de¬ 
servedly stands high in the estimation of posterity, must 
however be considered as inferior to that of Filippo Brunel- 

a more general acquaintance with the sciences than any man of that age. Of all the 
fine arts he had a thorough and practical knowledge; and as a painter, a sculptor, 
hut particularly as an architect, obtained no small share of celebrity. Vasari, vita 
di Alberti, and L. B. Alberti, laud, a Pozzetti, ut sup. 

16 This piece was written by Alberti, during the confinement of sickness, occa¬ 
sioned by too close an application to study. It was printed in the succeeding 
century by the younger Aldo Manutio, who had procured a manuscript copy, and 
not aware of the deception, gravely confesses in the proeme his ignorance of Lepidus 
the Roman poet. 

17 On the authority of Vasari we may attribute to Alberti the discovery of the 
“ camera oscura,” though that invention is generally given to Giambattista Porta in 
the succeeding century. “ L’anno 1437 trovo per via d ’uno strumento il modo di 
lucidare le prospettive naturali et diminuire le figure,” &c. (Vasari, in vita di 
Alberti, da Bottari, Fir. 1771.) The invention of the optical machine for exhibit¬ 
ing drawings so as to imitate nature is indisputably due to him. 

18 Of this Vasari has preserved the following specimen: 

“ Questa per estrema miserabile pistola mando, 

A te, che spregi miseramente noi.” 

Some of the Sonnets of Alberti are yet extant, and are printed with those of 
Burchiello, with whom he was on terms of intimacy; and Pozzetti, who has lately 
favoured the public with a very full account of this extraordinary man, has also 
pointed out several of his poetical pieces, which are yet preserved in different libraries 
of Italy. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


57 


1467.] 

leschi, who is the true father of the art in modem times. 
Vasari expresses his disapprobation of some part of the 
labours of Alberti. His paintings were not numerous, nor 
on a large scale; nor did he in this branch of art arrive at 
great practical perfection, which, as Vasari observes, is not 
much to be wondered at, as his time was mostly devoted to 
other studies. His principal merit is certainly to be sought 
for in his useful discoveries, and his preceptive writings. 
He was the first author who attempted practical treatises on 
the arts of design, all of which, but more particularly his 
treatise on architecture, are allowed to exhibit a profound 
knowledge of his subject, and will long continue to do 
honour to his memory. 19 

Had all the other professors of letters been silent as 
to the merits of Piero de’ Medici, the applauses Cristoforo 
bestowed on him by Cristoforo Landino would Landino * 
alone be sufficient to rescue his memory from neglect. 
Landino had indeed every motive of gratitude to the family 
of his patron. He was bom a Plorentine, and being early 
disgusted with the study of the civil law, devoted himself 
to that of poetry and polite letters. In pursuing his inch- 
nations, he had the good fortune to find the road that led 
him to honour and to affluence. The bounty of a private 
friend supported him through the early part of his edu¬ 
cation, to which the finances of his family were inadequate, 
and the munificence of Cosmo de’ Medici completed what 
the kindness of Angelo da Todi had begun. His profi¬ 
ciency in the Greek language was remarkable, even at a 
period when the study of it was in its highest vigour, and 
immediately supplied from its native fountain. The philo¬ 
sophy of Aristotle, and the dogmas of the stoics, had early 
engaged his attention; but from his intercourse with the 
Medici, and his intimacy with Picino, he afterwards became 
a decided partisan of the new philosophy, and was among 


19 Professor Pozzetti has referred to a medalion of Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta, 
lord of Rimini, executed in 1450, on the reverse of which is represented the church 
of S. Francesco at Rimini; and has published a letter to shew that he intended to 
terminate that building, of which he was the architect, with a cupola like that of 
Brunelleschi at Florence, although such intention was not carried into effect; Illus¬ 
trations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 95. 


58 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. II. 


the few learned men whom Ficino thought proper to con¬ 
sult on his translation of the works of Plato. The Latin 
elegies of Landino 20 bear ample testimony to the virtues, the 
liberality, and the accomplishments of Piero de’ Medici, 
whom he constantly honours with the appellation of his 
Maecenas, and seems to have selected from the other indi¬ 
viduals of that illustrious family, as the object of his par¬ 
ticular affection and veneration. 

If we consider the numerous testimonies that remain 
Piero patro- of the liberality of Piero de’ Medici to men of 
emiaentscho- learning, and advert at the same time to the 
lars - infirm state of his health, and the short period 
during which he enjoyed the direction of the republic, 
we shall not hesitate in allotting to him a distinguished 
rank amongst the early promoters of letters. To Piero, 
Benedetto Accolti addressed, in terms of high commenda¬ 
tion, his history of the wars between the Christians and the 
infidels, 21 a work of considerable historical credit, and which, 
in the succeeding century, served as a guide to Torquato 
Tasso, in his immortal poem the Gerusalemme liberata . 22 
An uninterrupted friendship subsisted between Piero and the 
celebrated Donato Acciajuoli, who inscribed to him several 
of his learned works. The Laurentian library contains 
many similar instances of the gratitude and observance of the 


20 To these poems Landino prefixed the name of “ Xandra,” being the diminutive 
of Alessandra, the appellation of his poetical mistress. This work has not been 
published, but the Canonico Bandini has given us some extracts from it in his Spec. 
Lit. Flor. vol. i. p. 110, &c. The prefatory verses to his second book are addressed 
to Piero de’ Medici. 

21 This work, written in Latin, was first printed at Venice, in 1532, again at Basil, 
1544, and at Florence, 1623; the last-mentioned edition being accompanied by the 
annotations of Thomas Dempster, a Scotchman, and professor of humanity in the 
college of Bologna. It was translated into Greek by Irone Ducas, and printed at 
Paris in 1620; and into Italian by Francesco Baldelh, and published by Giolito at 
Venice in 1549. Zeno. Diss. Voss. vol. i. p. 163. 

22 Accolti is not less celebrated as a civilian than as a polite scholar. He was 
born at Arezzo in 1415, whence his usual appellation of Benedetto Aretino. Having 
been sent on an embassy from that place to Florence, he took up his residence there, 
and in the year 1459 succeeded Poggio Bracciolini as secretary to the republic, in 
which office he continued till his death, in 1466. Besides his history, he is the 
author of a dialogue entitled “ De praestantia virorum sui aevi,” inscribed to Cosmo 
de’ Medici, which was first printed in 1689. Paulo Cortesi, a severe censor, allows 
that his history is a work of great industry, and that it throws considerable light 
on a very difficult subject. Zeno. Diss. Voss. vol. i. p. 164. Cortes de Horn, 
doct. p. 22. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


59 


1468.] 

scholars of the time. Amongst those deserving of more 
particular notice is Francesco Ottavio, who dedicated to 
Piero his poem Be ccetu poetarum , in which he hesitates not 
to represent his patron as surpassing the example of his 
father in his attention to the cause of literature, and in his 
kindness to its professors. 23 

No sooner was the city of Florence restored to peace, and 
the dread of a foreign enemy removed, than the natural dis¬ 
position of the inhabitants for splendid exhibitions began 
to revive. Amongst other amusements, a tourna- Giostra of 
ment was held, in which Lorenzo de’ Medici bore GiXn°o. and 
away the prize, being a helmet of silver, with a A - D - 1468 * O 
figure of Mars as the crest. In another encounter Giuliano 
had equal success with his brother. These incidents are 
the more entitled to our notice, as they have given rise 
to two of the most celebrated Italian poems of the fifteenth 
century, the Giostra of Lorenzo de ’ Medici , by Luca Pulci, 
and the Giostra of Giuliano de Medici , by Angelo Politiano. 

At what particular time these events took place, and 
whether the two brothers signalised themselves on the same, 
or on different occasions, has been rendered doubtful by the 
inattention and discordant relations of different writers, 
who have directly or incidentally adverted to this subject. 
Amongst these, Machiavelli has misinformed, 24 and Paulus 
Jovius confused his readers. 25 Of the authors who have 
followed them, some have employed themselves in compar¬ 
ing or contesting these various authorities, 26 whilst others 
have gone a step further, and ingrafted their own absurdi¬ 
ties on the errors of their predecessors. 27 Even amongst 

23 This poem is published in the Carmina Illustr. Poetar. Ital. vol. vii. p. 1. 

24 If we believe Machiavelli, this exhibition took place in 1465, (at which time 
Lorenzo was only seventeen years of age,) and was intended merely to turn the at¬ 
tention of the people from the affairs of state. Mac. Hist. lib. vii. 

25 In his elogies Jovius adverts to the Giostra of Lorenzo, as prior to that 
of Giuliano. But in his life of Leo X. (lib. i.) he directly contradicts his own 
evidence. 

26 Bayle cites these different passages of Jovius, but, as usual, leaves his reader to 
form his own judgment upon them. Diet. Hist. Art. Politien. Vide Boissardum in 
Elog. vir. doct. et Jo. Mich. Brutum in Hist. Flor. lib. ii. ap. Bayle. 

27 Varillas and Baillet. The former of whom gives an account of the poem of 
Politiano, sufficiently absurd to afford amusement to the reader, the substance of 
which has been adopted by the latter. Anec. de Flor. p. 194. Jugemens de Savans, 
vol. v. p. 29. 


60 THE LIFE OF [CH. II. 

those who are entitled to a greater share of attention, 
Fabroni has decided wrong, 28 and Menckenins, after a full 
inquiry into all previous testimony, confesses his inability 
to decide at all. 29 In solving this difficulty, it might have 
been expected that recourse would have been had, in the 
first instance, to the internal evidence of the poems them¬ 
selves, by which all doubts on the subject would have been 
effectually removed; but Menckenius had never seen even 
the poem of Politiano, though it is of much more common 
occurrence than that of Pulci; and Fabroni, with the poem 
of Pulci before him, has suffered himself to be betrayed 
into an anachronism by the authority of Machiavelli. In 
the poem last mentioned, not only the year, but the precise 
day on which the tournament of Lorenzo took place, is par¬ 
ticularly specified. This appears to have been the 7th 
of February, 1468, 30 at which time he was in his twentieth 
year, to which the poet also expressly adverts, as well as to 
the attack lately made upon the Florentines by Bartolomeo 
Coglione, called of Bergamo. The circumstance that gave 
rise to this solemnity was the marriage of Braccio Martello, 
an intimate friend of Lorenzo. The second prize of honour 
was adjudged to Carlo Borromei. At this time Giuliano 
was only in his fifteenth year ; but he made his appearance 
on horseback among the combatants, and obtained a prize 
during the same festival; it being evident from the poem of 
Pulci, that he was to try his courage on a future day. The 
poem of Politiano contains also sufficient proof that the 
tournament of Giuliano is to be placed at no very distant 
period from that of Lorenzo, as it appears Lorenzo was not 
then married, although that event took place within a few 
months after he had signalized himself in this contest. If 


28 Fabroni places this event before the conspiracy of Luca Pitti and the attempt 
on the life of Piero de’ Medici. Laur. Med. vita, vol. i. p. 20. 

29 Menck. in vita Politiani, p. 44. 

30 “ L’anno correva mille quattro cento 
Et sessant’ octo dall’ incarnazione, 

Et ordinossi per mezzo Gennaio, 

Ma il septimo di fessi di Febraio.” 

Giostra di Lor. 

It must be observed that the year, according to the Florentine computation, did not 
terminate till the 25th day of March. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


61 


1468.] 

further confirmation were necessary, it may be found in the 
Ricordi of Lorenzo, who defrayed the expense of this exhi¬ 
bition, which cost ten thousand florins, and was held in the 
place of S. Croce. In this authentic document Lorenzo 
speaks with becoming modesty of these his youthful achieve¬ 
ments. 31 

It must be confessed that the poem of Pulci derives its 
merit rather from the minute information it gives Poem of 
us respecting this exhibition, than from its poetical Luca PulcL 
excellence. 32 A considerable part of it is employed in 
describing the preparations for the tournament, and the 
habits and appearance of the combatants. The umpires 
were, Roberto da Sanseverino, Carlo Pandolfini, Tomaso 
Soderini, Ugolino Martelli, Niccolo Giugni, and Buon- 
gianni Gianfigliazzi. The candidates for the prize were 
eighteen in number. The steed upon which Lorenzo made 
his first appearance was presented to him by Perdinand king 
of Naples ; that on which he relied in the combat, by Borso 
marquis of Perrara. The duke of Milan had furnished him 
with his suit of armour. His motto was Le terns revient. 
His device, the Jteurs de lys , the privilege of using the arms 
of Prance having shortly before been conceded to the Medici 
by Louis XI. by a solemn act. His first conflict was with 
Carlo Borromei; his next with Braccio de’ Medici, who at¬ 
tacked him with such strength and courage, that if the stroke 
had taken place, Orlando himself, as the poet assures us, 
could not have withstood the shock. Lorenzo took speedy 
vengeance, but his spear breaking into a hundred pieces, his 
adversary was preserved from a total overthrow. He then 
assailed Carlo da Porme, whose helmet he split, and whom 
he nearly unhorsed. Lorenzo then changing his steed, made 
a violent attack upon Benedetto Salutati, who had just 
couched his lance ready for the combat. 

31 Ric. di Lor. in App. No. XI. 

32 Of this poem I have seen only two editions; the first printed without note of date 
or place, but apparently about the year 1500, under the title of la giostra di lo- 

RENZO de’ MEDICI MESSA IN RIMA DA LUIGI DE’ PULCI ANNO M.CCCC.LXVIII. in 

which it is to be observed, that this work is erroneously attributed to Luigi, the 
author of the Morgante, instead of Luca, his brother. The other edition is printed 
in Florence by the Giunti, in 1572, accompanied by the Ciriffo Calvaneo, and the 
Epistole of Luca Pulci, and is there attributed to its proper author. 


62 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. II. 


Vedestu mai falcon calare a piombo, 

E poi spianarsi, e batter forte 1’ ale, 

C’ ha tratto fuori della schiera il Colombo ? 
Cos! Lorenzo Benedetto assale; 

Tanto che Y aria fa fischiar pel rombo, 

Non va si presto folgor, non che strale ; 
Dettonsi colpi che parvon d’ Achille, 

Et balza un mongibel fuori di faville. 


Hast not thou seen the falcon in his flight, 

When high in air on balanced wing he hung, 

On some lone straggler of the covey light ? 

—On Benedetto thus Lorenzo sprung. 

Whistled the air, as ardent for the fight, 

Fleet as the arrow flies he rushed along; 

Achilles’ rage their meeting strokes inspires, 

Their sparkling armour rivals Etna’s fires. 

The poem of Politiano is of a very different character, 
Poem of and though produced about the same period of 
poiitiano. time, is a century posterior in point of refinement . 33 
The age of Politiano, when he wrote it, scarcely exceeded 
fourteen years, and it must not be denied that the poem 
bears upon the face of it the marks of juvenility—but what 
a manhood does it promise ? Prom such an early exube¬ 
rance of blossom what fruits might we not expect P The 
general approbation with which it was received, must have 
been highly flattering both to the poet and the hero; nor 
has posterity appealed from the decision. On the contrary, 
it has been uniformly allowed that this was one of the 
earliest productions in the revival of letters, that breathed 
the true spirit of poetry; and that it not only far excelled 
the Giostra of Pulci, but essentially contributed towards the 
establishment of a better taste in Italy. 

It may seem strange, that although this poem is of con¬ 
siderable length, containing about fourteen hundred lines, it 
is left unfinished, and breaks off even before the tournament 


33 The Stanze of Politiano on the Giostra of Giuliano de’ Medici have been fre¬ 
quently printed. In the earliest edition I have seen, they are accompanied by his 
fable of Orfeo, stampate in Firenze, per Gianstephano di Carlo da Pavia, a stanza di 
Ser Piero Pacini da Pescia, questo di xv. d’ Ottobre m.d.xiii. This, however, is not 
the first edition, they having been printed in the lifetime of Politiano, though with¬ 
out his concurrence, as appears by the dedication from Alessandro Sartio to Galeazzo 
Bentivoglio, reprinted in the edition of 1513, wherein Sartio alludes to their having 
been printed by Plato de Benedicts, one of the best printers of the fifteenth century. 
Many subsequent editions have been published ; at Venice, 1521, 1537, &c. and at 
Padua by Comino, 1728, 1751, and 1765. 



LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


63 


1468 .] 

begins. Instead of giving us, like Pulci, a minute descrip¬ 
tion of the habiliments of the combatants, the poet takes a 
wider circuit, and indulges himself in digressions and epi¬ 
sodes of great extent. The express purpose for which it was 
written would not indeed be very apparent, were it not for 
the information afforded us in the commencement; and even 
here the author does not propose to confine himself to 
one subject in particular, but professes to celebrate the feats 
of arms and pomps of Florence, and the loves and studies 
of Giuliano de’ Medici. Although Giuliano be the subject, 
the poem is addressed to Lorenzo, whose favour Politiano 

earnestly supplicates. 

\ 

E tu, ben nato Laur’, sotto il cui velo 
Fiorenza beta in pace si riposa, 

Ne teme i venti, o ’1 minacciar del cielo, 

0 Giove irato in vista piu crucciosa; 

Accogli al ombra del tuo santo ostelo 
La voce umil, tremante, e paurosa; 

Principio, e fin, di tutte le mie voglie, 

Che sol vivon d’ odor delle tue foglie. 

Deh sara mai che con piu alte note, 

Se non contrasti al mio voler fortuna, 

Lo spirto delle membre, che divote 
Ti fur da’ fati, insin gia dalla cuna, 

Risuoni te dai Numidi a Boote, 

Dagl’ Indi, al mar che ’1 nostro ciel imbruna, 

E, posto ’1 nido in tuo felice ligno, 

Di roco augel diventi un bianco cigno ? 


High born Lorenzo ! Laurel—in whose shade 
Thy Florence rests, nor fears the lowering storm, 

Nor threatening signs in heaven’s high front display’d, 

Nor Jove’s dread anger in its fiercest form; 

0 to the trembling muse afford thine aid, 

—The muse that courts thee, timorous and forlorn, 

Lives in the shadow of thy prosperous tree, 

And bounds her every fond desire to thee. 

Ere long the spirit that this frame inspires, 

This frame, that from its earliest hour was thine, 

If fortune frown not on my vast desires, 

Shall spread to distant shores thy name divine ; 

To lands that feel the sun’s intenser fires, 

That mark his earliest rise, his last decline ; 

Nursed in the shade thy spreading branch supplies, 

Tuneless before, a tuneful swan I rise. 

The poet then proceeds to describe the youthful employ¬ 
ments and pursuits of Giuliano de’ Medici, and particularly 



64 


THE LIFE OF . \ [CH. II. 

* x r- 

adverts to his repugnance to surrender his heart to the 
attacks continually made upon it by the fair sex^ 


Ah quante Ninfe perlui sospirorno ! 

Ma fu si altero sempre il giovinetto, 
Che mai le Ninfe amanti lo piegorno, 
Mai pote riscaldarsi ’1 freddo petto. 
Facea sovente pe’ boschi soggiorno; 
Inculto sempre, e rigido in aspetto ; 

II volto diffendea dal solar raggio 
Con ghirlanda di pino, o verde faggio. 

E poi, quando nel ciel parean le stelle, 
Tutto gioioso a suo magion tornava 
E’n compagnia delle nove sorelle, 
Celesti versi con disio cantava: 

E d’ antica virtu mille fiammelle. 

Con gli alti carmi ne’ petti destava; 
Cosi chiamando amor lascivia umana, 
Si godea con le Muse, e con Diana. 


For Julian many a maiden heaved the sigh, 

And many a glance the tender flame confess’d; 

But not the radience of the brightest eye 
Could melt the icy rigour of his breast. 

Wild through the trackless woods the youth would hie, 

Severe of aspect, and disdaining rest: 

Whilst the dark pine, or spreading beech supplied 
A wreath, from summer suns his head to hide. 

When evening’s star its milder lustre lends, 

The wanderer to his cheerful home retires, 

There every muse his loved return attends, 

And generous aims, and heavenly verse inspires: 

Deep through his frame the sacred song descends, 

With thirst of ancient praise his soul that fires; 

And Love, fond trifler, mourns his blunted dart, 

That harmless flies where Dian shields the heart. 

After some beautiful verses, in which Giuliano reproaches 
the weakness of those who devote themselves to the tender 
passion, he goes to the chase, which gives the poet an op¬ 
portunity of displaying his talent for description, in which 
he particularly excels. Love, who feels his divinity insulted, 
employs a stratagem to subdue the obdurate heart of Giuliano. 
A beautiful white hind crosses his way, which he pursues, 
but which perpetually eludes his endeavours to wound it, 
and leads him far distant from his companions. When his 
courser is almost exhausted with fatigue, a nymph makes 
her appearance, and Giuliano, astonished at her beauty, 



LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


65 


1468.] 

forgets the pursuit, and accosts her with trepidation and 
amazement. Her answer completes her triumph. Evening 
comes on, and Giuliano returns home, alone and pensive. 
The poet then enters upon a description of the court of 
Venus in the island of Cyprus, which extends to a consi¬ 
derable length, and is ornamented with all the graces of 
poetry. Cupid having completed his conquest, returns 
thither to recount his success to his mother; who, in order 
to enhance its value, is desirous that Giuliano should sig¬ 
nalize himself in a tournament. The whole band of loves 
accordingly repairs to Elorence, and Giuliano prepares for 
the combat. In a dream sent by Venus, he seems to come 
off with victory. On his return, crowned with olive and 
laurel, his mistress appears to him, but is soon enveloped in 
a thick cloud, and carried from his sight; which incident 
the poet applies to the sudden death of the beautiful 
Simonetta, the mistress of Giuliano. 34 Some consolatory 
verses are applied to the lover, who, awaking, invokes 
Minerva to crown his attempt with glory. But here the 
narrative is interrupted; nor does it appear that the author 
resumed his task at any subsequent period, having probably 
thrown the work aside as a production of his younger years, 
scarcely deserving of his riper attention. 

The proficiency made by Lorenzo and Giuliano in active 
> accomplishments, did not however retard their Disputa . 
progress in the pursuits of science, or the ac- tiones c*. 
quisition of knowledge. About the year 1468, maldulenses * 
Landino wrote his Disputationes Camaldulenses, which, at 
the same time that they open to us the means of instruc¬ 
tion adopted by him in the education of his pupils, give us 
the fairest evidence of their proficiency. 35 In the infancy 

34 On this lady we have an epitaph by Politiano, (the substance of which is said to 
have been suggested to him by Giuliano), printed amongst his smaller poems, in “ Op. 
Aid." 1498. And Bernardo Pulci has also left an elegy on her death, published by 
Miscomini at Florence in 1494. 

35 This work was first published without note of place or date, but, as Bandini 
supposes, about the year 1472, (Spec. Lit. Flor. vol. ii. p. 3.) or 1475. (Ib. vol. ii. 
p. 192.) De Bure conjectures it was printed about the year 1480. (Bibliographie 
Instructive, vol. iv. p. 272. Ed. 1763.) This edition is extremely scarce. Bandini 
could not find a copy in the Vatican library, although it appears in the catalogue. It 
was reprinted at Strasburg in the year 1508. The title of this last edition is, “ Chris- 
tophori landini florentini libri quattuor. Primus de vita activa et contem- 

5 


66 THE LIFE OF [dl. II. 

of science, particular departments of knowledge are fre¬ 
quently cultivated with great success; but it is only in 
periods of high improvement that men are accustomed to 
comprehend the general plan of human life, and to allot to 
every occupation and pursuit its proper degree of import¬ 
ance. The Disputationes Camaldulenses afford us sufficient 
proof that the Florentines had, at this early period, arrived 
at that mental elevation which enabled them to take a dis¬ 
tinct view of the various objects by which they were sur¬ 
rounded, and to apply all that was then known of science 
to its best uses. In the introduction to this work Landino 
informs us, that having, in company with his brother Piero, 
made an excursion from his villa in Casentina to a monas¬ 
tery in the wood of Camaldoli, they found that Lorenzo 
and Giuliano de 5 Medici had arrived there before them, ac¬ 
companied by Alamanni Rinuccini, and Piero and Donato 
Acciajuoli; all men of learning and eloquence, who had ap¬ 
plied themselves with great diligence to philosophical studies. 
The pleasure of their first meeting was enhanced by the 
arrival of Leo Battista Alberti, who, returning from Rome, 
had met with Marsilio Picino, and had prevailed upon him 
to pass a few days, during the heat of autumn, in the 
healthful retreat of Camaldoli. Mariotto, abbot of the 
monastery, introduced to each other his learned friends; 
and the remainder of the day, for it was then drawing 
towards evening, was passed in attending to the conversa¬ 
tion of Alberti, of whose disposition and accomplishments 
Landino gives us a most favourable idea. On the follow¬ 
ing day, after the performance of religious duties, the whole 
company agreed to ascend through the wood towards the 
summit of the hill, and in a short time arrived at a solitary 
spot, where the extended branches of a large beech over¬ 
hung a clear spring of water. At the invitation of Alberti, 
a conversation here takes place, which he begins, by observ¬ 
ing, that those persons may be esteemed peculiarly happy, 


plativa. Secundus de summo bono. Tertius et quartus in Publii Virgilii Maronis 
Allegoriasand at the close, “ Has Camaldulenses Disputationes pulchrioribus typis 
Mathias Schiirerius, artium doctor, excussit in officina sua litteratoria, Argentoraci, 
die xxvi. Augusti. Anno Christi m.d.viii. Regnante Csesare Maximiliano Augusto.” 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


67 


1468.] 

who, having improved their minds by study, can withdraw 
themselves at intervals from public engagements and private 
anxiety, and in some agreeable retreat indulge themselves in 
an ample range through all the objects of the natural and 
moral world. “ But if this be an occupation suitable for all 
men of learning, it is more particularly so for you,” con¬ 
tinued Alberti, addressing himself to Lorenzo and Giuliano, 
“ on whom the direction of the affairs of the republic is 
likely, from the increasing infirmities of your father, soon to 
devolve . 36 For although, Lorenzo, you have given proof of 
such virtues as would induce us to think them rather of 
divine than human origin; although there seems to be no 
undertaking so momentous as not to be accomplished by 
that prudence and courage which you have displayed, even 
in your early years; and although the impulse of youthful 
ambition, and the full enjoyment of those gifts of fortune 
which have often intoxicated men of high expectation and 
great virtue, have never yet been able to impel you beyond 
the just bounds of moderation; yet, both you and that re¬ 
public which you are shortly to direct, or rather which now 
in a great measure reposes on your care, will derive im¬ 
portant advantages from those hours of leisure, which you 
may pass either in solitary meditation, or social discussion, 
on the origin and nature of the human mind. For it is 
impossible that any person should rightly direct the affairs 
of the public, unless he has previously established in him¬ 
self virtuous habits, and enlightened his understanding with 
that knowledge, which will enable him clearly to discern why 
he is called into existence, what is due to others, and what 
to himself.” A conversation then commences between 
Lorenzo and Alberti, in which the latter endeavours to shew, 
that as reason is the distinguishing characteristic of man, the 
perfection of his nature is only to be attained by the culti¬ 
vation of his mind, and by a total abstraction from worldly 

36 “ Land. Disput. Carnal.” p. 7. Bandini conjectures that Landino composed this 
work about the year 1460, (Spec. Lit. Flor. vol. ii. p. 2,) at which time Lorenzo was 
only twelve years of age. But from the above passage it is evident that it was 
written towards the latter part of the life of Piero de’ Medici, and probably about 
the year 1468, when Lorenzo had already distinguished himself by his successful in¬ 
terference in public affairs. 


68 


THE LIFE OF 


[CIL II. 

pursuits. Lorenzo, who is not a mere silent auditor, opposes 
a doctrine which, if carried to its extreme, would separate 
man from his duties; and contends that no essential distinc¬ 
tion can be made between active and contemplative life, but 
that each should mutually assist and improve the other; and 
this he illustrates in such a variety of instances, that although 
it is evidently the object of Landino, through the medium 
of Alberti, to establish the pure Platonic dogma, that abstract 
contemplation can alone constitute the essence of human 
happiness, yet Lorenzo appears to have raised objections 
which the ingenuity of the philosopher in the sequel of the 
dispute seems scarcely to have invalidated. 37 On the fol¬ 
lowing day the same subject is pursued, and Alberti fully 
explains the doctrine of Plato respecting the true end and 
aim of human life; illustrating it by the opinions of many 
of the most celebrated followers of that philosopher. The 
third and fourth days are spent in a commentary by Alberti 
on the JEneid, in which he endeavours to shew, that under 
the fiction of the poem are represented the leading doctrines 
of that philosophy which had been the subject of their pre¬ 
vious discussion. Whatever may be thought of the propriety 
of such a construction, certain it is, that there are many 
passages in this poem which seem strongly to countenance 
such an opinion; and at all events, the idea is supported by 
Alberti with such a display of‘learning, and such a variety 
of proofs, as must have rendered his commentary highly 
amusing and instructive to his youthful auditors. 

It must not however be supposed, that amidst his studious 
Lorenzo’s de- avocations, Lorenzo was insensible to that passion 
hi?Sess° f h as a t all times been the soul of poetry, and 

has been so philosophically and so variously de¬ 
scribed in his own writings. To this subject he has indeed 

37 Alberti appears, from the following passage, to have almost given up the con¬ 
test : “ Nam quod aiehas maximum idcirco inde provenire reipublicae detrimentum, 
quod occupatis excellentioribus ingeniis circa veri cognitionem, ipsa a deterioribus 
regatur, nunquam profecto cessabit sapiens, quinse de rebus arduis consulentes recta 
semper moneat; unde si non opera, consilio tamen juvabit. (Qusest. Carnal, p. 28.) 
Thus the philosopher is obliged to stoop from his celestial height, and to disturb the 
calm repose of his mind with the cares of this grosser world—Beautiful, but imprac¬ 
ticable system of philosophy ! which must perhaps wait for its completion till another 
state of being. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


69 


1468.] 

devoted a considerable portion of his works; but it is some¬ 
what extraordinary that he has not thought proper, upon 
any occasion, to inform us of the name of his mistress; nor 
has he gratified our curiosity so far as to give her even a 
poetical appellation. Petrarca had his Laura, and Dante 
liis Beatrice; but Lorenzo has studiously concealed the name 
of the sovereign of his affections, leaving it to be ascertained 
by a thousand brilliant descriptions of her superlative beauty 
and accomplishments. In the usual order of things it is 
love that creates the poet; but with Lorenzo, poetry appears 
to have been the occasion of his love. The circumstances, 
as related by himself, are these: 38 —“A young lady of great 
personal attractions happened to die in Florence; and as 
she had been very generally admired and beloved, so her 
death was as generally lamented. Nor was this to be 
wondered at; for independent of her beauty, her manners 
were so engaging, that almost every person who had any 
acquaintance with her, flattered himself that he had obtained 
the chief place in her affections. This fatal event excited 
the extreme regret of her admirers; and as she was carried 
to the place of burial, with her face uncovered, those who 
had known her when living pressed for a last look at the 
object of their adoration, and accompanied her funeral with 
their tears, 39 

“ Whilst death smiled lovely in her lovely face." 

Morte bella parea nel suo bel volto.— Petr. 


“ On this occasion all the eloquence and the wit of Flo¬ 
rence were exerted in paying due honours to her memory, 
both in prose and in verse. Amongst the rest, I also com¬ 
posed a few sonnets; and in order to give them greater 
effect, I endeavoured to convince myself that I too had 
been deprived of the object of my love, and to excite in my 


38 “ Commento di Lor. de’ Medici sopra alcuni de’ suoi Sonetti nel fine delle sue 
Poesie volgari,” p. 123,129, &c. Ed. Aid. 1554. 

39 From this singular circumstance, compared with the evidence of one of the 
epigrams of Politiano, we are enabled to determine that this lady was the beautiful 
Simonetta, the mistress of Giuliano de’ Medici, to whose untimely death we have 
before adverted. 


70 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. II. 

own mind all those passions that might enable me to move 
the affections of others. Under the influence of this de¬ 
lusion, I began to think how severe was the fate of those 
by whom she had been beloved; and from thence was led 
to consider, whether there was any other lady in this city 
deserving of such honour and praise, and to imagine the 
happiness that must be experienced by any one whose good 
fortune could procure him such a subject for his pen. I 
accordingly sought for some time without having the satis¬ 
faction of finding any one, who, in my judgment, was de¬ 
serving of a sincere and constant attachment. But when 
I had nearly resigned all expectations of success, chance 
threw in my way that which had been denied to my most 
diligent inquiry; as if the god of love had selected this 
hopeless period to give me a more decisive proof of his 
power. A public festival was held in Florence, to which all 
that was noble and beautiful in the city resorted. To this 
I was brought by some of my companions (I suppose as 
my destiny led), against my will, for I had for some time 
past avoided such exhibitions; or if at tunes I attended 
them, it proceeded rather from a compliance with custom, 
than from any pleasure I experienced in them. Among 
the ladies there assembled, I saw one of such sweet and at¬ 
tractive manners, that whilst I regarded her, I could not 
help saying, If this person were possessed of the delicacy , 
the understanding , the accomplishments of her who is lately 
dead—most certainly she excels her in the charms of her 
person .” 

* * * * * * 

“ Resigning myself to my passion, I endeavoured to dis¬ 
cover, if possible, how far her manners and her conversation 
agreed with her appearance; and here I found such an as¬ 
semblage of extraordinary endowments, that it was difficult 
to say whether she excelled more in her person, or in her 
mind. Her beauty was, as I have before mentioned, asto¬ 
nishing. She was of a just and proper height. Her com¬ 
plexion extremely fair, but not pale; blooming, but not 
ruddy. Her countenance was serious without being severe; 
mild and pleasant without levity or vulgarity. Her eyes 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


71 


1468.] 

were lively, without any indication of pride or conceit. Her 
whole shape was so finely proportioned, that amongst other 
women she appeared with superior dignity, yet free from 
the least degree of formality or affectation. In walking, in 
dancing, or in other exercises which display the person, 
every motion was elegant and appropriate. Her sentiments 
were always just and striking, and have furnished materials 
for some of my sonnets; she always spoke at the proper 
time, and always to the purpose, so that nothing could be 
added, nothing taken away. Though her remarks were 
often keen and pointed, yet they were so tempered as not 
to give offence. Her understanding was superior to her 
sex, but without the appearance of arrogance or presump¬ 
tion ; and she avoided an error too common among women, 
who when they think themselves sensible, become for the 
most part insupportable. 40 To recount all her excellences 
would far exceed my present limits; and I shall therefore 
conclude with affirming, that there was nothing which could 
be desired in a beautiful and accomplished woman, which 
was not in her most abundantly found. By these qualities 
I was so captivated, that not a power or faculty of my 
body or mind remained any longer at liberty, and I could 
not help considering the lady who had died, as the star of 
Venus, which at the approach of the sun is totally over¬ 
powered and extinguished.” Such is the description that 
Lorenzo has left us of the object of his passion, in his 
comment upon the first sonnet which he wrote in her 
praise; and if we do not allow great latitude to the par¬ 
tiality of a lover, we must confess that few poets have 
been fortunate enough to meet with a mistress so well 
calculated to excite their zeal, or to justify the effects of 
their admiration. 

The first poetical offspring of this passion was Sonnets in 

the following:- her praise. 

40 Let it not be thought that I should hazard such a sentiment without the full 
authority of my author, who has indeed expressed it in more general terms.—“ Lo 
ingegno,” says he, “ meraviglioso e cio senza fasta o presunzione, e fuggendo un 
certo vitio commune a donne, a quali parendo d’ intendere assai, divengono insup- 
portabili; volendo giudicare ogni cosa, che volgarmente le chiamiamo Saccenti .”— 
But we must recollect that Lorenzo de’ Medici wrote in the fifteenth century ! 


72 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. II. 


SONETTO. 

Lasso a me, quando io son la dove sia 
Quell’ angelico, altero, e dolce volto, 

II freddo sangue intorno al core accolto 
Lascia senza color la faccia mia: 

Poi mirando la sua, mi par si pia, 

Ch’io prendo ardire, e torna il valor tolto; 
Amor ne’ raggi de’ begli occhi involto 
Mostra al mio tristo cor la cieca via: 

E parlandogli alhor, dice, io ti giuro 
Pel santo lume di questi occhi belli, 

Del mio stral forza, e del mio regno onore, 

Ch’io saro sempre teco, e ti assicuro 
Esser vera pieta che mostran quelli: 

Credogli lasso ! e da me fugge il core. 


Alas for me! whene’er my footsteps trace 
Those precincts where eternal beauty reigns, 

The sanguine current from a thousand veins 
Flows round my heart, and pallid grows my face: 

But when I mark that smile of heavenly grace, 

Its wonted powers my drooping soul regains; 

Whilst Love, that in her eyes his state maintains, 

Points to my wandering heart its resting place; 

And stooping from his beamy mansion swears, 

“ By all that forms my power and points my dart, 

The living lustre of those radiant eyes, 

I still will guide thy way; dismiss thy fears; 

True are those looks of love.” My trusting heart 
Believes th’ insidious vow—and from me flies. 

The effects of this passion on Lorenzo were such as might 
be expected to be produced on a young and sensible mind. 
Instead of the glaring exhibitions to which he had been ac¬ 
customed, the hurry of the city, and the public avocations 
of life, he found in himself a disposition for silence and for 
solitude, and was pleased in associating the ideas produced 
by every rural object with that of the mistress of his affec¬ 
tions. Of these sentiments he has afforded us a specimen 
in the following sonnet:— 


SONETTO. 

Cerchi chi vuol, le pompe, e gli alti honori, 
Le piazze, e tempi, e gli edifici magni, 
Le delicie, il tesor, qual accompagni 
Mille duri pensier, mille dolori: 

Un verde praticel pien di bei fiori, 

Un rivolo, che 1’ erba intorno bagni, 

Un augelletto, che d’ amor si lagni, 
Acqueta molto meglio i nostri ardori. 



1468.] 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


73 


L’ ombrose selve, i sassi, e gli alti monti, 
Gli antri oscuri, e le fere fuggitive, 
Qualche leggiadra Ninfa paurosa; 

Quivi veggio io con pensier vaghi, e pronti 
Le belle luci, come fossin vive: 

Qui me le toglie hor una, hor altra cosa. 


Seek he who will in grandeur to be blest, 

Place in proud halls, and splendid courts, his joy, 

For pleasure or for gold, his arts employ, 

Whilst all his hours unnumbered cares molest. 

—A little field in native flowerets drest, 

A rivulet in soft murmurs gliding by, 

A bird whose love-sick note salutes the sky, 

With sweeter magic lull my cares to rest. 

And shadowy woods, and rocks, and towering hills, 

And caves obscure, and nature’s free-born train, 

And some lone nymph that timorous speeds along, 

Each in my mind some gentle thought instils 

Of those bright eyes that absence shrouds in vain; 

—Ah gentle thoughts ! soon lost the city cares among. 

Having thus happily found a mistress that deserved his 
attention, Lorenzo was not negligent in celebrating her 
praises. On this, his constant theme, he has given us a 
considerable number of beautiful sonnets, canzoni, and 
other poetical compositions; which, like those of Petrarca, 
are sometimes devoted to the more general celebration of 
the person, or the mind of his mistress, and sometimes 
dwell only on one particular feature or accomplishment; 
whilst at other times these productions advert to the effects 
of his own passion, which is analysed and described with 
every possible illustration of poetic ingenuity and philo¬ 
sophic refinement. 

But having thus far traced the passion of Lorenzo, 
we may now be allowed to ask who was the Lucretia Do- 
object of so refined a love; adored without l 0 h f e 
being defined, and celebrated without a name? P assion * 
Fortunately, the friends of Lorenzo were not in this 
respect equally delicate with himself. Politiano, in his 
Giostra of Giuliano, has celebrated the mistress of Lo¬ 
renzo by the name of Lucretia. And Ugolino Verini, in 
his Fiametta, has addressed to her a Latin poem in elegiac 
verse, in which he shews himself a powerful advocate for 
Lorenzo, and contends, that whatever might be her accom¬ 
plishments, he was a lover deserving of her favour. Valori 



74 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. II. 

affords us more particular information; from him we learn 
that Lucretia was a lady of the noble family of the Donati, 
equally distinguished by her beauty and her virtue, and a 
descendant of Curtio Donato, who had rendered himself 
eminent throughout Italy by his military achievements . 41 

Whether the assiduities of Lorenzo and the persuasions 
of his friends were sufficiently powerful to soften that ob¬ 
duracy which there is reason to presume Lucretia mani¬ 
fested on his first addresses, yet remains a matter of doubt. 
The sonnets of Lorenzo rise and fall through every degree 
of the thermometer of love; he exults and he despairs—he 
freezes and he burns—he sings of raptures too great for 
mortal sense, and he applauds a severity of virtue that no 
solicitations can move. From such contradictory testimony 
what are we to conclude ? Lorenzo has himself presented 
us with the key that unlocks this mystery. From the re¬ 
lation which he has before given, we find that Lucretia was 
the mistress of the poet, and not of the man. Lorenzo 
sought for an object to concentrate his ideas, to give them 
strength and effect, and he found in Lucretia a subject that 
suited his purpose, and deserved his praise. But having so 
far realised his mistress, he has dressed and ornamented 
her according to his own imagination. Every action of her 
person, every motion of her mind, is subject to his control. 
She smiles, or she frowns; she refuses, or relents; she is 
absent, or present; she intrudes upon his solitude by day, 
or visits him in his nightly dreams, just as his presiding 
fancy directs. In the midst of these delightful visions 
Lorenzo was called upon to attend to the dull realities of 
life. He had now attained his twenty-first year, and his 
father conceived that it was time for him to enter into the 
Lorenzo mar- con j u g a l state. To this end he had negotiated 
nes ciarice a marriage between Lorenzo and Clarice, the 
daughter of Giacopo Orsini, of the noble and 
powerful Roman family of that name, which had so long 
contended for superiority with that of the Colonna. Whe¬ 
ther Lorenzo despaired of success in his youthful passion, 
or whether he subdued his feelings at the voice of paternal 

Valor, in vita Laur. p. 8. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


75 


1469 .] 

authority, is left to conjecture only. Certain, however, it 
is, that in the month of December, 1468, he was betrothed 
to a person whom it is probable he had never seen, and the 
marriage ceremony was performed on the 4th day of June 
following. 42 That the heart of Lorenzo had little share in 
this engagement is marked by a striking circumstance. In 
adverting to his marriage in his Ricordi, he bluntly remarks 
that he took this lady to wife, “ or rather/’ says he, “ she 
was given to me,” on the day before mentioned. 43 Not¬ 
withstanding this indifference, it appears from indisputable 
documents, that a real affection soon afterwards subsisted 
between them; and there is reason to presume that Lorenzo 
always treated her 'with particular respect and kindness. 
Their nuptials were celebrated with great splendour. Two 
military spectacles were exhibited, one of which represented 
a field battle of horsemen, and the other the attack and 
storming of a fortified citadel. 

In the month of July following, Lorenzo took another 
journey to Milan, for the purpose of standing visits the 
sponsor in the name of his father, to Galeazzo, £“ keofMl - 
the eldest son of Galeazzo Sforza, the reigning A - D - 1469 - 
duke. In this expedition he was accompanied by Gentile 
d’Urbino, who gave a regular narrative of their proceedings 
to Clarice. A letter from Lorenzo himself to his wife is 
also yet preserved, written upon his arrival at Milan, which 
though very short and not distinguished by any flights of 
fancy, exhibits more sincerity and affection than the greater 
part of his amorous sonnets. 44 

Lorenzo de Medici to his wife Clarice. 

“ I arrived here in safety, and am in good health. This 
I believe will please thee better than anything else except 

42 Bayle is mistaken in supposing that the marriage of Lorenzo took place in 1471. 
Speaking of Machiavelli, he says : “ II ne marque pas l’annee de ce mariage, ce qui 
est un grand defaut dans un ecrivain d’histoire, mais on peut recueillir de sa narra¬ 
tion que ce fut l’an 1471.” (Diet. Hist. Art. Politien.) In correcting Bayle, Menc- 
kenius falls into a greater error, and places this event in 1472. (Menck. in vita Pol. 
p. 48.) 

43 “ Ricordi di Lor.” App. No. XI. (and v. “ Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo 

de’ Medici,” p. 97.) 44 Fahr. in vita Lor. Adnot. et Mon. vol. ii. p. 56. 




76 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. II. 

my return; at least so I judge from my own desire to be 
once more with thee. Associate as much as possible with 
my father and my sisters. I shall make all possible speed 
to return to thee; for it appears a thousand years till I see 
thee again. Pray to God for me. If thou want anything 
from this place, write in time. 

“ Thy Lorenzo de’ Medici.” 

“ From Milan, 22d of July, 1469.” 

Prom the Ricordi of Lorenzo and the letters of Gentile, 
it appears that Lorenzo was treated at Milan with great 
distinction and honour. “ More indeed,” says he, “ than 
were shewn to any other person present, although there 
were many much better entitled to it.” On his departure 
he presented the duchess with a gold necklace, and a dia¬ 
mond which cost about three thousand ducats; “ whence,” 
says he in his Ricordi, “ it followed, that the duke requested 
that I would stand sponsor to all his other children.” 

Piero de’ Medici did not long survive the marriage of 
Death of hi s son - Exhausted by bodily sufferings, and 
Piero de* wearied with the arrogant and tyrannical con¬ 
duct of many of those who had espoused his 
cause, and which his infirmities prevented him from re¬ 
pressing, he died on the 3d day of December, 1469, leaving 
his widow Lucretia, who survived him many years. His 
funeral was without ostentation; “ perhaps,” says Ammi- 
rato, “ because he had in his lifetime given directions to 
that effect; or because the parade of a magnificent inter¬ 
ment might have excited the envy of the populace towards 
his successors, to whom it was of more importance to be 
great, than to appear to be so.” 45 

Before Piero was attacked by the disorder which for a 
long time rendered him almost incapable of attending to 
public business, he had been employed in several embassies 
of the greatest importance, which he had executed much to 
his own honour and the advantage of the republic. Even 
after he was disabled from attending in the council, he con¬ 
tinued to regulate the affairs of Florence, and to discuss 


45 Amm. 1st. Fior. vol. iii. p. 106. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


77 


1469 .] 

with the principal citizens the most important subjects, in 
such a manner as to evince the solidity of his judgment and 
the integrity of his heart. He possessed a competent share 
of eloquence, some specimens of which are given by Ma- 
chiavelli, who asserts that the extortions and abuses prac¬ 
tised by his friends and adherents were so flagitious, and so 
hateful to his temper, that if he had lived it was his inten¬ 
tion to have recalled the exiled citizens; for which purpose 
he had an interview, at his seat at Caflagiolo with Agnolo 
Acciajuoli; but the numerous errors of this celebrated his¬ 
torian give us just reason to doubt on those points which 
have not the concurrent testimony of other writers. “ It is 
probable,” says Tiraboschi, “ that had Piero enjoyed better 
health and longer life, he might have done more for the 
interests of literature; but if he had only been known as 
the father of Lorenzo de’ Medici, it would have been a suf¬ 
ficient title to the gratitude of posterity.” 



Giostra of Lorenzo de'Medici. 




























Medal of Giuliano de’ Medici . 


CHAPTER III. 

1469—1476. 


Political state of Italy — Venice — Naples — Milan — Rome — Florence—Lorenzo suc¬ 
ceeds to the direction of the republic—Giuliano de’ Medici—Attach on Prato — 
League against the Turks—Riches of the Medici—Their commercial concerns — 
Other sources of their revenue—The duke of Milan visits Florence—Lorenzo 
devotes his leisure to literature—Angelo Politiano—His temper and character — 
Death of Paul II.—A persecutor of learned men—Succeeded by Sixtus IV .— 
Lorenzo deputed to congratulate him—Revolt and Sackage of Volterra—Lorenzo 
establishes the academy of Pisa—Negotiation for a marriage between the Dauphin 
and a daughter of the king of Naples—The king declines the proposal—Ambition 
and rapacity of Sixtus IV.—League between the duke of Milan, the Venetians, and 
the Florentines—The king of Denmark at Florence—Progress of the Platonic 
academy—Poem of Lorenzo entitled Altercazione —Platonic festival—Effects 
of this institution—Number and celebrity of its members. 


At the time of the death of Piero de’ Medici, the republic 
Political of Elorence was not engaged in any open war. 
Italy. ° f The absentees were however a cause of continual 
a.d. 1469. alarm, an( t the situation of the Italian states was 
^ such, as to give just grounds of apprehension that the tran¬ 
quillity of that country would not long remain undisturbed. 
Venice Of these the most powerful was that of Venice, 
which aspired to nothing less than the dominion 
of all Lombardy, and the supreme control of Italy itself. 
The superiority which it had acquired was in a great degree 
derived from the extensive commerce then carried on by the 
Venetians to different parts of the East, the valuable pro¬ 
ductions of which were conveyed by way of Egypt into the 




LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


79 


1469 .] 

Mediterranean, and from thence distributed by the Vene¬ 
tians throughout the rest of Europe. In this branch of 
commerce the Genoese and the Florentines had successively 
attempted to rival them; but although each of these people, 
and particularly the latter, had obtained a considerable por¬ 
tion of this lucrative trade, the Venetians maintained a 
decided superiority, until the discovery of a new and more 
expeditious communication with India, by the Cape of 
Good Hope, turned the course of eastern traffic into a new 
channel. The numerous vessels employed in transporting 
their commodities to different countries, rendered the state 
of Venice the most formidable maritime power in Europe. 
Ever intent on its own aggrandizement, it has only been 
restrained within its limits by formidable leagues between 
the Italian sovereigns, and by the seasonable intervention 
of foreign powers. Its internal tranquillity is remarkably 
contrasted with the turbulence of Florence; but the Vene¬ 
tian nobility had erected their authority on the necks of the 
people, and Venice was a republic of nobles with a popu¬ 
lace of slaves. In no country was despotism ever reduced 
to a more accurate system. The proficiency made by the 
Venetians in literature has accordingly borne no proportion 
to the rank which they have in other respects held among 
the Italian states. The talents of the higher orders were 
devoted to the support of their authority, or the extension 
of their territory; and among the lower class, with their 
political rights, their emulation was effectually extinguished. 
Whilst the other principal cities of Italy were daily pro¬ 
ducing works of genius, Venice was content with the hum¬ 
ble, but more lucrative employment of communicating 
those works to the public by means of the press. Other 
governments have exhibited a different aspect at different 
times, according to the temper of the sovereign, or the pas¬ 
sions of the multitude; but Venice uniformly preserved for 
ages the same settled features, a phenomenon in political 
history. 

The kingdom of Naples was at this time governed 
by Ferdinand of Arragon, who had in the year Na ? les * 
1458 succeeded his father Alfonso. Under his admini- 


80 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. III. 

stration that country experienced a degree of prosperity to 
which it had long been a stranger. At the same time that 
Ferdinand kept a watchful eye on the other governments 
of Italy, and particularly on that of Venice, he was consult¬ 
ing the happiness of his own subjects by the institution of 
just and equal laws, and by the promotion of commerce and 
of letters; but the virtues of the monarch were sullied by 
the crimes of the man, and the memory of Ferdinand is dis¬ 
graced by repeated instances of treachery and inhumanity. 
Galeazzo Maria, son of the eminent Francesco Sforza, held 
Milan ^he s ^ es °f Milan, which were then of consider¬ 
able extent. Of the virtues and talents of the 
father, little however is to be traced in the character of the 
son. Immoderate in his pleasures, lavish in his expenses, 
rapacious in supplying his wants, he incurred the contempt 
and hatred of his subjects. Like another Nero, he mingled 
with his vices a taste for science and for arts. To the follies 
and the crimes of this man, posterity must trace the origin 
of all those evils, which, after the death of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, depopulated and laid waste the most flourishing 
governments of Italy. 

The pontifical chair was filled by Paul II. the successor 
Rome of Pius II. A Venetian by birth, he had been 
educated in the profession of a merchant. On 
his uncle Eugenius IV. being promoted to the papacy, he 
changed his views, and betook himself to study, but too 
late in life to make any great proficiency. To compensate 
for this defect, Paul assumed a degree of magnificence and 
splendour before unknown. His garments were highly 
ornamented, and his tiara was richly adorned with jewels. 
Of a tall and imposing figure, he appeared in his proces¬ 
sions like a new Aaron, and commanded the respect and 
veneration of the multitude. His dislike to literature was 
shewn by an unrelenting persecution of almost all the men 
of learning who had the misfortune to reside within his 
dominions. In the pontifical gf^rffiment, it may with jus¬ 
tice be observed, that the interests of the prince and the 
people are always at variance with each other. Raised to 
the supremacy at an advanced period of life, when the claims 


LORENZO DE ? MEDICI. 


81 


1469 .] 

of kindred begin to draw closer round the heart, the object 
of the pope is generally the aggrandizement of his family; 
and as he succeeds to the direction of a state whose finances 
have been exhausted by his predecessor, under the influence 
of similar passions, he employs the short space of time 
allowed him, in a manner the most advantageous to himself, 
and the most oppressive to his subjects. Such is nearly 
the uniform tenor of this government; but in the fifteenth 
century, when the pope by his secular power held a distin¬ 
guished rank among the sovereigns of Italy, he often looked 
beyond the resources of his own subjects, and attempted to 
possess himself by force of some of the smaller independent 
states which bordered upon his dominions, and over which 
the holy see always pretended a paramount claim, as having 
at some previous time formed a part of its territory, and 
having been either wrested from it by force, or wrongfully 
granted away by some former pontiff. These subordinate 
governments, though obtained by the power of the Roman 
state, were generally disposed of to the nominal nephews 
of the pope, who frequently bore in fact a nearer re¬ 
lationship to him; and were held by them until another 
successor in the see had power enough to dispossess the 
family of his predecessor, and vest the sovereignty in his 
own. 

With any of these governments, either in extent of territory, 
or in point of military establishment, the city of Florence 
Florence could not contend; but she possessed some 
advantages that rendered her of no small importance in the 
concerns of Italy. Independent of the superior activity and 
acuteness of her inhabitants, their situation, almost in the 
centre of the contending powers, gave them an opportunity of 
improving circumstances to their own interest, of which they 
seldom failed to avail themselves; and if Florence was inferior 
to the rest in the particulars before mentioned, she excelled 
them all in the promptitude with which she could apply her 
resources when necessity required. The battles of the Flo¬ 
rentines were generally fought by Condottieri, who sold, or 
rather lent their troops to those who offered the best price; 
for the skill of the commander was shown in these contests, 

C 


82 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. III. 

not so much in destroying the enemy, as in preserving from 
destruction those followers, on whom he depended for his 
importance or his support. The Florentines were collectively 
and individually rich; and as the principal inhabitants did 
not hesitate, on pressing emergencies, to contribute to the 
credit and supply of the republic, the city of Florence was 
generally enabled to perform an important part in the trans¬ 
actions of Italy, and if not powerful enough to act alone, 
was perhaps more desirable as an ally than any other state 
of that country. 1 

Such was the situation of the different governments of 
Italy at the time of the death of Piero de’ Medici; but, 
besides these, a number of inferior states interfered in the 
politics of the times, and on some occasions, with no incon¬ 
siderable effect. Borso d’Este, marquis of Ferrara, although 
of illegitimate birth, had succeeded to the government on 
the death of Leonello, to the exclusion of his own legitimate 
brothers, and administered its affairs with great reputa¬ 
tion. 2 Torn by domestic factions, the Genoese were held in 

1 Of the population and finances of Florence, in the fifteenth century, I am enabled 
to give some interesting particulars, from a manuscript of that period, hitherto 
unpublished, entitled, “ Inventiva d’ una impositione di nuova gravezza,” or “ A pro¬ 
position for a new mode of taxation,” by Lodovico Ghetti. In this document the 
projector calculates the number of Florentine citizens capable of bearing arms at 
80,000 men, which, by computing four persons with each, so as to include infirm 
people, women, and children, he estimates as a population of 400,000 inhabitants. He 
then calculates the amount of the consumption, by this number of inhabitants, of the 
necessary articles of life, of which he proposes to take a tenth part in one general 
tax upon the produce of the soil and the labour of the country, amounting to 475,815 
florins, which, after making all due allowances, would be sufficient to support the 
military establishment of the republic, and to discharge the other necessary expenses 
of the government. Many other particulars respecting the ancient state of Florence, 
may he found in this piece, which I have given in the Appendix, as accurately as the 
state of the manuscript will admit, v. App. No. XII. 

The florin is no longer a current coin in Tuscany; it may therefore be proper to 
observe, that the value of the ancient florin, or Fiorino d’ oro, was about two shil¬ 
lings and sixpence, having been of the value of three lire and ten soldi. Am. 1st. 
Fior. vol. ii. p. 753. 

2 The family of Este may be considered as powerful rivals of the Medici, in the 
encouragement of learning and arts. This taste seems to have arisen with Leonello, 
who had studied under Guarino Veronese (Tirab. vol. vi. pp. 2, 259), and is not less 
entitled to a place in the annals of letters than in those of political events. Under 
his protection the university of Ferrara was splendidly re-established and endowed. 
His court was resorted to by men of learning from all parts of Italy. Of his own 
poetical productions some specimens yet remain which do honour to his memory. 
(Mur. Ann. vol. ix. p. 439.) His successor was not inferior to him as a patron of 
learning; and Ercole I. who succeeded Borso in 1471, continued his hereditary pro¬ 
tection of literature to the ensuing century. 


/ 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


83 


1469 .] 

subjection by the Duke of Milan, whilst Sienna and Lucca, 
each boasting a free government, were indebted for their 
independence rather to the mutual jealousy of their neigh¬ 
bours, than to any resources of their own. 

We have already seen, that during the indisposition of 
Piero de’ Medici, Lorenzo had frequently inter- Lorenzo suc- 
fered in the administration of the republic, and Action‘of 
had given convincing proofs of his talents and the republic, 
his assiduity. Upon the death of his father, he there¬ 
fore succeeded to his authority as if it had been a part 
of his patrimony. On the second day after that event, 
he was attended at his own house by many of the 
principal inhabitants of Florence, who requested that he 
would take upon himself the administration and care of the 
republic, in the same manner as his grandfather and his 
father had before done. 3 Had Lorenzo even been divested 
of ambition, he well knew the impossibility of retiring with 
safety to a private station, and without long hesitation com¬ 
plied with the wishes of his fellow-citizens. 4 Sensible, 
however, of the difficulties which he had to encounter, he 
took every precaution to obviate the ill effects of envy and 
suspicion, by selecting as his principal advisers such of the 

3 Ricor. di Lor. in App. No. XI. &c. and v. Illustrations of the life of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, p. 98. 

4 If we give implicit credit to Machiavelli, Lorenzo was in a great degree indebted 
for this high distinction to Tomaso Soderini, who (as that author informs us) had, 
after the death of Piero de’ Medici, obtained such influence in the city, that he was 
consulted on all affairs of importance, and was even addressed by foreign powers as 
the principal person in the republic. On this trying occasion, Tomaso, we are told, 
gave a striking proof of his moderation and fidelity. He assembled by night the 
principal citizens in the convent of S. Antonio, when Lorenzo and Giuliano were 
present, to take into consideration the state of the republic; where, by many argu¬ 
ments, he convinced his auditors of the expediency of continuing the Medici in the 
elevated station which their ancestors had so long enjoyed. (Mac. 1st. lib. 7.) This 
account, though so circumstantially related and adopted, even by Ammirato and 
Fabroni, I am led to reject, on the simple narrative of Lorenzo in his Ricordi. If 
Lorenzo was in fact called upon to take the direction of the republic two days after 
the death of his father, there seems to have been but little time allowed for the 
honours paid by the citizens, and by foreign powers, to Tomaso Soderini. And if 
Lorenzo accepted this honourable distinction in his own house, as he expressly informs 
us was the case, there was no occasion for his attendance in the convent of S. Antonio, 
whilst the citizens debated whether he should preserve the rank which his family had 
so long held in Florence. His continuance in this rank was not owing to the favour or 
the eloquence of an individual, but to the extensive wealth and influence of his 
family, its powerful foreign connexions, and above all, perhaps, to the remembrance 
of the many benefits which it had conferred upon the republic. 


84 


TTIE LIFE OF 


[CH. III. 

citizens as were most esteemed for their integrity and their 
prudence, whom he consulted on all occasions of importance. 
This practice, which he found so useful to him in his youth, 
he continued in his maturer years; but after having duly 
weighed the opinions of others, he was accustomed to de¬ 
cide on the measures to be adopted, by the strength of his 
own judgment, and not seldom in opposition to the senti¬ 
ments of those with whom he had advised. Letters of 
condolence were addressed to him on the death of his father, 
not only by many eminent individuals, but by several of the 
states and princes of Italy, and from some he received par¬ 
ticular embassies, with assurances of friendship and support. 

Between Lorenzo and his brother Giuliano, there sub- 
Giuiiano de’ sisted a warm and uninterrupted affection. Edu- 
Medici - cated under the same roof, they had always 

participated in the same studies and amusements. Giu¬ 
liano was therefore no stranger to the learned lan¬ 
guages, and, in his attention to men of talents, emulated 
the example and partook of the celebrity of his brother. 
He delighted in music and in poetry, particularly in that 
of his native tongue, which he cultivated with success; 
and by his generosity and urbanity gained, in a great 
degree, the affections of the populace, to which it is pro¬ 
bable his fondness for public exhibitions not a little contri¬ 
buted. At the death of his father, Giuliano was only about 
sixteen years of age, so that the administration of public 
affairs rested wholly on Lorenzo, whose constant attention 
to the improvement of his brother may be considered as the 
most unequivocal proof of his affection. 

A hasty and ill-conducted attempt by Bernardo Nardi, 
Attack on one °f Florentine exiles, to surprise and pos- 
pr at°. sess himself of the town of Prato, a part of the 
Elorentine dominions, was one of the first events 
that called for the interposition of the republic. A body of 
soldiers was despatched to the relief of the place, but the 
intrepidity of Cesare Petrucci, the chief magistrate, assisted 
by Giorgio Ginori, a Elorentine citizen and knight of Rhodes, 
had rendered further assistance unnecessary; and Bernardo 
being made prisoner, was sent to Florence, where he paid 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


85 


1470.J 

with his life the forfeit of his folly. 5 Being interrogated 
previous to his execution, as to his motives for making such 
an attempt with so small a number of followers, and such 
little probability of success, he replied, that having deter¬ 
mined rather to die in Florence than to live longer in 
exile, he wished to ennoble his death by some splendid 
action. 6 No sooner had this alarm subsided, than appre¬ 
hensions arose of a much more formidable nature. Pur¬ 
suing his destructive conquests, the Turkish emperor, 

* Mahomet II. had attacked the island of Negropont, which 
composed a part of the Venetian territory, and, after a 
dreadful slaughter of both Turks and Christians, had taken 
the capital city by storm, and put the inhabitants to the 
sword. 7 Encouraged by success, he vowed not to lay down 
his arms until he had abolished the religion of Christ, and 
extirpated all his followers. A strong sense of common 
danger is perhaps of all others the most powerful incentive 
to concord, and the selfish views of the Italian states 
were for a short time lost in the contemplation of this de¬ 
structive enemy, whose success was equally dreaded by the 
prince, the scholar, and the priest. In the month League 
of December, 1470, a league was solemnly con- a g ainst the 
eluded, for the common defence, between the 
pope, the king of Naples, the duke of Milan, and the Flo¬ 
rentines, to which almost all the other states of Italy ac¬ 
ceded. 8 In the same month Lorenzo de’ Medici received 
a further proof of the confidence of his fellow-citizens, in 
being appointed syndic of the republic, by virtue of which 
authority he bestowed upon Buongianni Gianfiliazzi, then 
Gonfaloniere, the order of knighthood in the church of 
S. Reparata. 9 

The multiplicity of his public concerns did not prevent 
Lorenzo from attending to his domestic affairs, Riches of the 
and taking the necessary precautions for conti- Medici * 
nuing with advantage those branches of commerce which 
had proved so lucrative to his ancestors. Such were the 
profits which they had derived from these sources, that 

5 Amin. 1st. Fior. vol. iii. p. 107. 6 Mac. Hist. Lib. 7. 

" Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 507. 8 Ibid. p. 508. 9 Amm. 1st. Fior. vol. iii. p. 107. 


86 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. III. 

besides the immense riches which the family actually pos¬ 
sessed, the ancestors of Lorenzo had in a course of thirty- 
seven years, computing from the return of Cosmo from 
banishment in 1434, expended in works of public charity or 
utility upwards of 660,000 florins; a sum which Lorenzo 
himself justly denominates incredible, and which may serve 
to give us a striking idea of the extensive traffic by which 
such munificence could be supported. 10 In relating this 
circumstance, Lorenzo gives his hearty sanction to the man¬ 
ner in which this money had been employed. “ Some per¬ 
sons would perhaps think,” says he, in his private Ricordi, 
“ that it would be more desirable to have a part of it in their 
purse; but I conceive it has been a great advantage to the 
public, and well laid out, and am therefore perfectly satisfied.” 
Of this sum the principal part had been acquired and ex¬ 
pended by Cosmo de’ Medici, who had carried on, in con¬ 
junction with his brother Lorenzo, a very extensive trade, as 
well in Florence as in foreign parts. On the death of Lorenzo, 
in the year 1440, his proportion of the riches thus obtained, 
which amounted in the whole to upwards of 235,000 florins, 
was inherited by his son Pier Francesco de’ Medici, for whose 
use Cosmo retained it until the year 1451, when a distribu¬ 
tion took place between the two families. From that time 
it was agreed, that the traffic of the family should be carried 
on for the joint benefit of Pier Francesco and of Piero and 
Giovanni, the sons of Cosmo, who were to divide the profits 
in equal shares of one third to each, and immense riches 
were thus acquired ; n but whilst Cosmo and his descendants 
expended a great part of their wealth in the service of the 
country, and supported the hereditary dignity of chiefs of 
the republic, Pier Francesco preferred a private life, and 
equally remote from the praise of munificence or the re¬ 
proach of ostentation, transmitted to his descendants so 
ample a patrimony, as enabled them, in concurrence with 
other favourable circumstances, to establish a permanent 
authority in Florence, and finally to overturn the liberties of 
their native place. 


10 Ricordi di Lor. de’ Med. in App. No. XI. 


11 Ibid. 


1470.J LORENZO DE ? MEDICI. 87 

Of the particular branch of traffic by which the Medici 
acquired their wealth, little information remains; Thejr ^ 
but there is no doubt that a considerable portion mercial con- 
of it arose from the trade which the Florentines, cerns * 
in the early part of the fifteenth century, began to carry on 
to Alexandria for the productions of the east, in which they 
attempted to rival the states of Genoa and of Venice. To 
this they were induced by the representations of Taddeo di 
Cenni, who having resided at Venice, and being apprised of 
the advantages which that city derived from the traffic in 
spices and other eastern merchandize, prevailed upon his 
countrymen, in the year 1421, to aim at a participation in 
the trade. Six new officers were accordingly created, under 
the title of maritime consuls, who were to prepare, at the 
port of Leghorn (the dominion of which city the Florentines 
had then lately obtained by purchase), two large galleys and 
six guard ships. 12 In the following year the Florentines 
entered on their new commerce with great solemnity. A 
public procession took place, and the divine favour, which 
had always accompanied their domestic undertakings, was 
solicited upon their maritime concerns. At the same time 
the first armed vessel of the republic was fitted out on a 
voyage for Alexandria, in which twelve young men of the 
chief families of Florence engaged to proceed, for the pur¬ 
pose of obtaining experience in naval affairs. Carlo Fede- 
v righi and Felice Brancacci were appointed ambassadors to 
the sultan, and were provided with rich presents to conci¬ 
liate his favour. The embassy was eminently successful. 
Early in the following year the ambassadors returned, 
having obtained permission to form a commercial establish¬ 
ment at Alexandria for the convenience of their trade, and 
with the extraordinary privilege of erecting a church for the 
exercise of their religion. 13 In this branch of traffic, which 
was of a very lucrative nature, and carried on to a great 
extent, the Medici were deeply engaged, and reciprocal 
presents of rare or curious articles were exchanged between 
them and the sultans, which sufficiently indicate their 
friendly intercourse. 

12 Amm. 1st. Fior. vol. ii. p. 994. 


13 Ibid. vol. ii. 999. 


THE LIFE OF 


88 


[CH. III. 


Besides the profits derived from their mercantile con- 
other sources cerns, the wealth of the Medici was obtained 
Le. eir reve through many other channels. A very large in¬ 
come arose to Cosmo and his descendants from their 
extensive farms at Poggio-Cajano, Caffagiolo, and other 
places, which were cultivated with great assiduity, and 
made a certain and ample return. The mines of alum 
in different parts of Italy were either the property of the 
Medici, or were hired by them from their respective owners, 
so that they were enabled almost to monopolize this article, 
and to render it highly lucrative. Por a mine in the Roman 
territory it appears that they paid to the papal see the 
annual rent of 100,000 florins. 14 But perhaps the prin¬ 
cipal sources of the riches of this family arose from the 
commercial banks which they had established in almost 
all the trading cities of Europe, and which were conducted 
by agents in whom they placed great confidence. At a 
time when the rate of interest frequently depended on the 
necessities of the borrower, and was in most cases very 
exorbitant, an inconceivable profit must have been derived 
from these establishments, which, as we have before noticed, 
were at times resorted to for pecuniary assistance by the 
most powerful sovereigns in Europe. 

In the month of March, 1471, Galeazzo Sforza, duke 
The Duke of Milan, accompanied by his duchess Bona, sister 
sftsFiorencel of Amadeo, duke of Savoy, paid a visit to Elo- 
a d- 1471 . rence, where they took up their residence with 
Lorenzo de’ Medici; but their attendants, who were very 
numerous, were accommodated at the public charge. 15 
Not sufficiently gratified by the admiration of his own 
subjects, Galeazzo was desirous of displaying his magni¬ 
ficence in the eyes of the Elorentines, and of partaking 
with them in the spectacles and amusements with which 
their city abounded. His equipage was accordingly in the 


14 Fabr. in Vita Laur. vol. i. pp. 39, 182. 

15 They consisted of one hundred men at arms, and five hundred infantry as a 
guard, fifty running footmen richly dressed in silk and silver, and so many noblemen 
and courtiers, that, with their different retinues, they amounted to two thousand 
horsemen. Five hundred couple of dogs, with an infinite number of falcons and 
hawks, completed the pageantry. Amm. 1st. Fior. vol. iii. p. 108. 


LORENZO DE 1 MEDICI. 


89 


1471 .] 

highest style of splendour and expense ; 16 but, notwithstand¬ 
ing this profusion, his wonder, and perhaps his envy, was 
excited by the superior magnificence of Lorenzo, which was 
of a kind not always in the power of riches to procure. 
Galeazzo observed with admiration the extensive collection 
of the finest remains of ancient art, which had been selected 
throughout all Italy for a long course of years with equal 
assiduity and expense. He examined with apparent plea¬ 
sure the great variety of statues, vases, gems, and intaglios, 
with which the palace of Lorenzo was ornamented, and in 
which the value of the materials was often excelled by the 
exquisite skill of the workmanship; but he was more par¬ 
ticularly gratified by the paintings, the productions of the 
best masters of the times, and owned that he had seen a 
greater number of excellent pictures in that place, than he 
had found throughout the rest of Italy. With the same 
attention he examined the celebrated collection of manu¬ 
scripts, drawings, and other curious articles of which Lo¬ 
renzo was possessed; and notwithstanding his predilection 
for courtly grandeur, had the taste, or the address, to ac¬ 
knowledge, that in comparison with what he had seen, gold 
and silver lost their value. The arrival of the duke at 
Florence seems to have been the signal for general riot and 
dissipation. Machiavelli affects to speak with horror of the 
irregular conduct of him and of his courtiers; and remarks, 
with a gravity that might well have become a more dutiful 
son of the church, that this was the first time that an open 
disregard was avowed in Florence of the prohibition of 
eating flesh in Lent. 17 For the amusement of the duke and 
his attendants three public spectacles were exhibited; one 
of which was the annunciation of the Virgin, another the 
ascension of Christ, and the third the descent of the Holy 
Spirit. The last was exhibited in the church of S. Spirito; 

16 Muratori, (Annali <T Italia, vol. ix, p. 511,) after Corio, (1st. di Milano,) informs 
us, that this journey was undertaken by Galeazzo, under the pretext of the perform¬ 
ance of a vow. Valori supposes that the motive of the duke was to confirm the autho¬ 
rity of Lorenzo in Florence. Galeazzo was not remarkable either for his piety or his 
prudence ; and it seems more probable that this excursion was undertaken merely to 
gratify his vanity, which he did at the expense of 200,000 gold ducats. In tracing 
the motives of conduct, historians frequently forget how many are to he sought for in 
the follies of mankind. 17 Mac. Hist. lib. 7. 


90 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. III. 

and as it required the frequent use of fire, the building 
caught the flames, and was entirely consumed—a circum¬ 
stance which the piety of the populace attributed to the 
evident displeasure of heaven. 

There is however abundant reason to believe that Lo- 
Lorenzode- renzo was induced to engage in the avocations 
lurTto'iite- and amusements before mentioned, rather by ne- 
rature. cessity than by choice, and that his happiest hours 
were those which he was permitted to devote to the 
exercise of his talents, and the improvement of his under¬ 
standing, or which were enlivened by the conversation of 
those eminent men who sometimes assembled under his roof 
in Florence, and occasionally accompanied him to his seats 
at Fiesole, Careggi, or Caflagiolo. Those who shared his 
more immediate favour were Marsilio Ficino, the three 
brothers of the family of Pulci, and Matteo Franco; but 
of all his literary friends, Politiano was the most parti¬ 
cularly distinguished. It has been said that this eminent 
Angeio po- scholar was educated under the protection of 
litiano. Cosmo de’ Medici; but at the death of Cosmo 
he was only ten years of age, having been born on the 
14th day of July, 1454. Politiano was indebted for his 
education to Piero, or rather to Lorenzo de’ Medici, whom 
he always considered as his peculiar patron, and to whom he 
felt himself bound by every tie of gratitude. 18 The place of 
his birth was Monte-Pulciano, or Mons Politianus , a small 
town in the territory of Florence, 19 whence he derived his 
name, having discontinued that of his family, which has 
given rise to great diversity of conjecture respecting it. 20 The 

18 Ficino, addressing himself to Lorenzo, denominates Politiano “ Angelus Poli¬ 
tianus noster, alumnus tuus acerrimo vir judicio.” And Politiano himself says, 

“ Innutritus autem pene a puero sum castissimis illis penetralibus magni viri, et in hac 
sua florentissima republica principis Laurenti Medicis.” Pol. Ep. ad Johannem Regem 
Portugalliae. in Ep. lib. x. Ep. 1. 

19 Monte-Pulciano is remarkable also for producing the best wine, not only in Italy, 
but in Europe. In the Ditirambo of Redi, Bacchus, after enumerating every known 
species of wine, declares, by a definitive sentence, that 

MONTE-PULCIANO d’0GNI VINO E IL RE. 

20 Some authors have given him the name of Angelus Bassus, but more modern 
critics have contended that his real name was Cini, being a contraction of Ambrogini. 
(Menage Antibaillet, lib. i. c. 14. Bayle, Diet. Hist. Art. Politien.) Menckenius, in 
his laborious history of the life of this author, employs his first chapter in ascertaining 
his real name, and constantly denominates him Angelus Ambroginus Politianus. The 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


91 


1471 .] 

father of Politiano, though not wealthy, was a doctor of the 
civil law, which may be an answer to the many invidious 
tales as to the meanness of his birth. On his arrival at 
Florence he applied himself with great diligence to the 
study of the Latin language under Cristoforo Landino, and 
of the Greek, under Andronicus of Thessalonica. Ficino 
and Argyropylus were his instructors in the different systems 
of the Platonic and Aristotelian philosophy; but poetry had 
irresistible allurements for his young mind, and his stanze 
on the Giostra of Giuliano, if they did not first recommend 
him to the notice of Lorenzo, certainly obtained his appro¬ 
bation, and secured his favour. The friendship of Lorenzo 
provided for all his wants, and enabled him to prosecute his 
studies free from the embarrassments and interruptions of 
pecuniary affairs . 21 He was early enrolled among the citizens 
of Florence, and appointed secular prior of the college of 
S. Giovanni. He afterwards entered into clerical orders, 
and having obtained the degree of doctor of the civil law, 
was nominated canon of the cathedral of Florence. In¬ 
trusted by Lorenzo with the education of his children, 
and the care of his extensive collection of manuscripts 
and antiquities, he constantly resided under his roof, 
and was his inseparable companion at those hours which 
were not devoted to the more important concerns of the state. 

Abate Serassi, in his life of Politiano, prefixed to the edition of his Italian poems 
by Comino, (Padua, 1765,) is also of opinion, that the name of Bassus is supposititious, 
and endeavours, on the authority of Salvini, to account for the rise of the mis¬ 
take. Notwithstanding these respectable authorities, indisputable evidence remains, 
that in the early part of his life Politiano denominated himself by the Latin appellation 
of Bassus. Not to rely on the epigram “ ad Bassura,” printed amongst his works, 
and certainly addressed to him, which Menckenius supposes led Vossius into his error, 
we have the most decisive evidence on this subject from different memoranda in 
the hand-writing of Politiano, yet remaining in the Laurentian library, which I 
shall hereafter have occasion more particularly to state, and in which he subscribes 
his name Angelus Bassus Politianus. Bandini, who has had every possible opportunity 
of information, on this subject, accordingly gives him that denomination. (Spec. 
Lit. Flor. vol. i. p. 172.) That Bassus was an academical name, assumed by Politiano 
in his youth, might be contended with some degree of probability. De Bure has 
given him the name of Jean Petit, (Bibliogr. Instr. vol. iv. p. 271,) in which absurdity 
he was preceded by another of his countrymen, Guy Patin. 

21 “ Nic. Leonicenus ad Pol. in Pol. Ep.” lib. ii. Ep. 7. Nor did Politiano hesitate, 
upon occasion, to trouble his patron with his personal wants. From one of his 
epigrams it appears that his inattention to dress had rendered it necessary for him 
to request immediate assistance from Lorenzo’s wardrobe; and from another we 
find that such assistance was not denied him. These epigrams merit a place in 
the Appendix: v. No. XIII. 


92 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. III. 

Respecting the temper and character of Politiano, his 
His temper e pi s ^ es afford us ample information. In one of 
and charac- these, addressed to Matteo Corvino, king of Hun¬ 
gary, a monarch eminently distinguished by his 
encouragement of learned men, he hesitates not, whilst he 
pays a just tribute of gratitude to the kindness of Lorenzo, 
to claim the merit due to his own industry and talents. 22 
“ Prom a humble situation,” says he, “ I have, by the 
favour and friendship of Lorenzo de’ Medici, been raised to 
some degree of rank and celebrity, without any other re¬ 
commendation than my proficiency in literature. During 
many years I have not only taught in Florence the Latin 
tongue with great approbation, but even in the Greek 
language I have contended with the Greeks themselves—a 
species of merit that I may boldly say has not been attained 
by any of my countrymen for a thousand years past.” In 
the intercourse which Politiano maintained with the learned 
men of his time, he appears to have been sufficiently con¬ 
scious of his own superiority. The letters addressed to him 
by his friends were in general well calculated to gratify his 
vanity; but although he was in a high degree jealous of his 
literary reputation, he was careful to distinguish how far the 
applauses bestowed upon him were truly merited, and how 
far they were intended to conciliate his favour. If he did not 
always estimate himself by the good opinion entertained of 
him by others, he did not suffer himself to be depressed by 
their envy or their censure. 23 “I am no more raised or de¬ 
jected,” says he, “ by the flattery of my friends, or the accusa¬ 
tions of my adversaries, than I am by the shadow of my o wn 
body; for although that shadow may be somewhat longer 
in the morning and the evening than it is in the middle of 
the day, this will scarcely induce me to think myself a taller 
man at those times than I am at noon.” 

The impulse which Lorenzo de’ Medici had given to the 
^cause of letters soon began to be felt not only by those 
who immediately surrounded him, but throughout the Tus¬ 
can territories, and from thence it extended itself to the rest 


22 Pol. Ep. lib. ix. Ep. 1. 


23 Ibid. lib. iii. Ep. 24. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


93 


1471.] 

of Italy. By the liberal encouragement which he held out 
to men of learning, and still more by his condescension and 
affability, he attracted them from all parts of that country 
to Florence; so that it is scarcely possible to name an 
Italian of that age, distinguished by his proficiency in any 
branch of literature, that has not shared the attention or 
partaken of the bounty of Lorenzo. 

Paul II. between whom and the family of the Medici 
there subsisted an irreeoncileable enmity, died on Dea th of 
the 26th of July, 1471, leaving behind him the PaulIL 
character of an ostentatious, profligate, and illiterate priest. 
This antipathy, which took place in the lifetime of Piero de’ 
Medici, though Pabroni supposes it arose after his death, 24 
was occasioned by the ambition of Paul, who under the in¬ 
fluence of motives to which we have before adverted, was 
desirous of possessing himself of the city of Bimini, then 
held by Roberto, the natural son of Gismondo Malatesti, 
whose virtues had obliterated in the eyes of the citizens the 
crimes of his father. 25 Finding his pretensions opposed, 
Paul attempted to enforce them by the sword, and prevailed 
upon his countrymen the Venetians to afford him their as¬ 
sistance. Roberto had resorted for succour to the Medici, 
and by their interference the Roman and Venetian troops 
were speedily opposed in the field by a formidable army, 
led by the duke of Urbino, and supported by the duke of 
Calabria and Roberto Sanseverino. An engagement took 
place, which terminated in the total rout of the army of the 
pope, who dreading the resentment of so powerful an alli¬ 
ance, acceded to such terms as the conquerors thought 
proper to dictate; not however without bitterly inveighing 
against the Medici for the part they had taken in opposing 
his ambitious project. 

During the pontificate of Paul II. letters and science 
experienced at Rome a cruel and unrelenting per- Paul a per _ 
secution, and their professors exhibited in their 
sufferings a degree of constancy and resolution, earne men ' 
which in another cause might have advanced them to the 

24 Fabr. in vita Laur. vol. i. p. 29. 

25 Amm. 1st. Fior. vol. iii. p. 105. Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 505. 


94 THE LIFE OF [ciI. III. 

rank of martyrs. The imprisonment of the historian 
Platina, who, on being arbitrarily deprived of a respectable 
office to which he was appointed by Pins II. had dared to 
thunder in the ears of the pope the dreaded name of a 
general council, might perhaps admit of some justification ; 
but this was only a prelude to the devastation which Paul 
made amongst the men of learning, who, during his ponti¬ 
ficate, had chosen the city of Rome as their residence. 26 
A number of these uniting together, had formed a spciety 
for the research of antiquities, chiefly with a view to eluci¬ 
date the works of the ancient authors, from medals, inscrip¬ 
tions, and other remains of art. As an incitement to, or 
as characteristic of their studies, they had assumed classic 
names, and thereby gave the first instance of a practice 
which has since become general among the academicians of 
Italy. Whilst these men were employing themselves in a 
manner that did honour to their age and country, Paul was 
indulging his folly and his vanity in ridiculous and con¬ 
temptible exhibitions; and happy had it been if he had 
confined his attention to these amusements; but on the 
pretext of a conspiracy against his person, he seized upon 
many members of the academy which he pretended to con¬ 
sider as a dangerous and seditious assembly, accusing them 
of having, by their adoption of heathen names, marked 
their aversion to the Christian religion. Such of them as 
were so unfortunate as to fall into his hands he committed 
to prison, where they underwent the torture, in order to 
draw from them a confession of crimes which had no exist¬ 
ence, and of heretical opinions which they had never avowed. 
Not being able to obtain any evidence of their guilt, and 
finding that they had resolution to suffer the last extremity 
rather than accuse themselves, Paul thought proper at length 
to acquit them of the charge, but at the same time, by a 
wanton abuse of power, he ordered that they should be de¬ 
tained in prison during a complete year from the time of 
theu commitment, alleging that he did it to fulfil a vow 
which he had made when he first imprisoned them. 27 

26 Platina nella vita di Paolo II. Muratori Ann. vol. ix. p. 508. 

27 Platina nella vita di Paolo II.—Zeno. Dissert. Voss. Art. Platina—Tirab. Storia 
della Lett. Ital. vol. vi. par. i. p. 82. 


1471.] LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 95 

To Paul II. succeeded Francesco della Rovere, a Fran¬ 
ciscan monk, who assumed the name of Sixtus IV. succeeded 
His knowledge of theology and the canon law had b y SixtusIV - 
not conciliated the favour of the populace; for during 
the splendid ceremony of his coronation a tumult arose 
in the city, in which his life was endangered. 28 To con¬ 
gratulate him on his elevation an embassy of six Lorenzo 
of the most eminent citizens was deputed from congmuiale 
Florence, at the head of which was Lorenzo de’ him - 
Medici. Between Lorenzo and the pope mutual instances 
of good-will took place; and Lorenzo, who under the di¬ 
rection of his agents had a bank established at Rome, was 
formally invested with the office of treasurer of the holy 
see, an appointment which greatly contributed to enrich his 
maternal uncle, Giovanni Tornabuoni, who, whilst he exe¬ 
cuted that office on behalf of Lorenzo, had an opportunity 
of purchasing from Sixtus many of the rich jewels that had 
been collected by Paul II. which he sold to different princes 
of Europe, to great emolument. 29 During this visit Lorenzo 
made further additions to the many valuable specimens of 
ancient sculpture, of which, by the diligence of his ancestors, 
he was already possessed. On his return to Florence he 
brought with him two busts, in marble, of Augustus and 
Agrippa, which were presented to him by the pope, with 
many cameos and medals, of the excellency of which he was 
an exquisite judge. 30 In the warmth of his admiration for 
antiquity, he could not refrain from condemning the bar¬ 
barism of Paul, who had demolished a part of the Flavian 
amphitheatre in order to build a church to S. Marco. 31 At 
this interview it is probable that Lorenzo solicited from 
Sixtus the promise of a cardinal’s hat for his brother, and 
it is certain that he afterwards used his endeavours to obtain 
for Giuliano a seat in the sacred college, through the medium 
of the Florentine envoy at Rome; but the circumstances of 
the times, and the different temper of the pope and of 
Lorenzo, soon put an end to all friendly intercourse between 
them, and an enmity took place which was productive of 
the most sanguinary consequences. 

28 Muratori Ann. vol. ix. p. 511. 29 Fabr. in vita Laur. vol.i. p. 38. 

30 Ricordi di Lor. in App. No. XI. 31 Fabr. in vita Laur. vol. i. p. 40. 


96 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. III. 

Soon after the return of Lorenzo to Florence, a disagree- 
Revoit and men t arose between that republic and the city of 
sackage of Volterra, which composed a part of its dominions, 
o terra. ^ m i ne 0 f alum had been discovered within the 
district of Volterra, which being at first considered as of 
small importance, was suffered to remain in the hands 
of individual proprietors; but it afterwards appearing to be 
very lucrative, the community of Volterra claimed a share 
of the profits as part of their municipal revenue. The 
proprietors appealed to the magistrates of Florence, who dis¬ 
countenanced the pretensions of the city of Volterra, alleg¬ 
ing, that if the profits of the mine were to be applied to the 
use of the public, they ought to become a part of the 
general revenue of the government, and not of any parti¬ 
cular district. This determination gave great offence to the 
citizens of Volterra, who resolved not only to persevere in 
their claims, but also to free themselves, if possible, from 
their subjection to the Florentines. A general commotion 
took place at Volterra. Such was the violence of the insur¬ 
gents, that they put to death several of their own citizens 
who disapproved of their intemperate proceedings. Even 
the Florentine commissary, Piero Malegonelle, narrowly 
escaped with his life. This revolt excited great alarm at 
Florence, not from the idea that the citizens of Volterra 
were powerful enough to succeed in an attempt which they 
had previously made at four different times without success, 
but from an apprehension, that if a contest took place, it 
might afford a pretext for the pope or the king of Naples to 
interfere on the occasion. Hence a great diversity of opi¬ 
nion prevailed amongst the magistrates and council of 
Florence, some of whom, particularly Tomaso Soderini, 
strongly recommended conciliatory measures. This advice 
was opposed by Lorenzo de’ Medici, who, from the enor¬ 
mities already committed at Volterra, was of opinion that 
the most speedy and vigorous means ought to be adopted 
to repress the commotion. In justification of this apparent 
severity, he remarked, that in violent disorders, where death 
could only be prevented by bold and decisive measures, 
those physicians were the most cruel who appeared to be 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


97 


1471.] 

the most compassionate. His advice was adopted by the 
council, and preparations were made to suppress the revolt 
by force. The inhabitants of Yolterra exerted themselves 
to put the city in a state of defence, and made earnest 
applications for assistance to the neighbouring governments. 
About a thousand soldiers were hired and received within 
the walls, to assist in supporting the expected attack; but 
the Florentines having surrounded the place with a numerous 
army, 32 under the command of the count of Urbino, the 
citizens soon surrendered at discretion. The Florentine 
commissaries took possession of the palace, and enjoined 
the magistrates to repair peaceably to their houses. One of 
them on his return was insulted and plundered by a soldier; 
and notwithstanding the utmost exertions of the duke of 
Urbino, who put to death the offender, this incident led 
the way to a general sackage of the city, the soldiers who 
had engaged in its defence uniting with the conquerors 
in despoiling and plundering the unfortunate inhabitants. 
Lorenzo was no sooner apprized of this event, than he 
hastened to Yolterra, where he endeavoured to repair the 
injuries done to the inhabitants, and to alleviate their dis¬ 
tresses, by every method in his power. 83 Although the 
unhappy termination of this affair arose from an incident, 
which, as the sagacity of Lorenzo could not foresee, so his 
precaution could not prevent, yet it is highly probable, from 
the earnestness which he showed to repair the calamity, that 
it gave him no small share of regret. Nor has he on this 
occasion escaped the censure of a contemporary historian, 
who being himself an inhabitant of Yolterra, probably 
shared in those distresses of which he considered Lorenzo 
as the author, and has therefore, on this and on other 
occasions, shewn a disposition unfriendly to his cha¬ 
racter. 34 ^ 

About the close of the following year great apprehensions 

32 Ten thousand foot and two thousand horse, according to Machiavelli, (lib. vii.) 
but Ammirato, with more probability, enumerates them at five thousand of the former 
and five hundred of the latter. 1st. Fior. vol. iii. p. 3. 

33 Fabr. in vita, vol. i. p. 45. 

34 RafFaelle da Volterra, in Commentar. Urban. Geogr. lib. v. p. 138. Ed. Lugd. 
1552. 


7 


98 THE LIFE OF [CH. III. 

of a famine arose in Florence, and five citizens were appointed 
to take the necessary precautions for supplying the 
place. The dreadful effects of this calamity were 
however obviated, principally by the attention of Lorenzo, 
who shortly afterwards took a journey to Pisa, where he made 
Lorenzo es- a long residence. 35 The object of this visit was the 
academy 1 of re-establishment and regulation of the academy 
Pisa - of that place, which, after having existed nearly 
two centuries, and having been celebrated for the abilities 
of its professors, and the number of its students, had fallen 
into disrepute and neglect. An institution of a similar 
nature had been founded in Florence in 1848—a year ren¬ 
dered remarkable by the dreadful pestilence of which Boc¬ 
caccio has left so affecting a narrative; but Florence was on 
many accounts an improper situation for this purpose. The 
scarcity of habitations, the high price of provisions, and the 
consequent expense of education, had greatly diminished 
the number of students, whilst the amusements with which 
that place abounded were unfavourable to a proficiency in 
serious acquirements. Sensible of these disadvantages, the 
Florentines, who had held the dominion of Pisa from the 
year 1406, resolved to establish the academy of that place 
in its former splendour. Lorenzo de’ Medici and four other 
citizens were appointed to superintend the execution of their 
purpose ; 36 but Lorenzo, who was the projector of the plan, 
undertook the chief direction of it, and in addition to the 
six thousand florins annually granted by the state, expended 
in effecting his purpose a large sum of money from his pri¬ 
vate fortune. Amongst the professors at Pisa, were speedily 
found some of the most eminent scholars of the age, parti¬ 
cularly in the more serious and important branches of 
science. At no period have the professors of literature been 


33 The coincidence of these circumstances is adverted to in an epigram of Politiano, 
•whose poems illustrate almost all the principal incidents in the life of Lorenzo. Pol. 
in lib. Epigr. 

36 The other deputies were Tomaso de’ Ridolfi, Donato degli Acciajuoli (after whose 
death his place was supplied by Piero Minerbetti), Andrea de’ Puccini, and Alamanno 
de’ Rinuccini. (Fabron. in vita Laur. p. 50.) This author, who was many years Prov- 
veditore, or principal of the Pisan academy, has, in his life of Lorenzo, given a very 
full account of its renovation, and of the different professors who have contributed 
towards its celebrity. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


99 


1473 .] 

so highly rewarded. 37 The dissensions and misconduct of 
these teachers, whose arrogance was at least equal to their 
learning, gave Lorenzo no small share of anxiety, and often 
called for his personal interference. 38 His absence from his 
native place was a frequent cause of regret to Politiano, who 
consoled himself by composing verses expressive of his 
affection for Lorenzo, and soliciting his speedy return. To 
this circumstance we are however indebted for several of the 
familiar letters of Lorenzo that have reached posterity, many 
of which have been published with those of Ficino; and 
perhaps derive some advantage from a comparison with the 
epistles of the philosopher, whose devotion to his favourite 
studies is frequently carried to an absurd extreme, and whose 
flattery is sometimes so apparent as to call for the reprehen¬ 
sion even of Lorenzo himself. 39 

The* increasing authority of Lorenzo, and his importance 
in the affairs of Europe, now began to be more Negotiation 
apparent. In the year 1473, he took part in a age beTween 
negotiation, which, had it been successful, might thepauphin 
have preserved Italy from many years of devasta- ter of the 
tion, and at all events must have given a different p, 1 ” 8 of Na ' 
complexion to the affairs not only of that country, AD - 1473 - 
but of Europe. Louis XI. of France, who laid the founda¬ 
tion of that despotism, which, after having existed for three 


37 The teachers of the civil and canon law were Bartolommeo Mariano Soccini, 
Baldo Bartolini, Lancelotto and Filippo Tristano, Pier Filippo Corneo, Felice Sandeo, 
and Francesco Accolti; all of whom had great professional reputation. In the de¬ 
partment of medicine we find the names of Albertino de Chizzoli, Alessandro Sermo- 
neta, Giovanni d’Aquila, and Pier Leoni. In philosophy, Nicolo Tignosi. In polite 
letters, Lorenzo Lippi and Bartolommeo da Prato. In divinity, Domenico di Flan- 
dria and Bernardino Cherichini. Of these the civilians had the highest salaries^— 
that of Soccini was 700 florins annually; that of Baldo 1050, and that of Accolti 1440. 

38 Forgetful of thefts gentium which it was his province to teach, Soccini made an 
attempt to evade his engagements at Pisa, and to carry off with him to Venice sundry 
books and property of the Academy intrusted to his care, which he had artfully con¬ 
cealed in wine casks. Being taken and brought to Florence, he was there condemned 
to death; but Lorenzo exerted his authority to prevent the execution of the sentence, 
alleging as a reason for his interference, that so accomplished a scholar ought not to 
suffer an ignominious death. An observation which may shew his veneration for 
science, but which will scarcely be found sufficient to exculpate a man whose exten¬ 
sive knowledge rather aggravated than alleviated his offence. Soccini, however, not 
only escaped punishment, but in a space of three years was reinstated in his professor¬ 
ship, with a salary of 1000 florins. 

39 “ Scribus ut in te laudando posthaec parcior esse velim/’ &c. Fic. ad Laur. in 
Ep. Fic. b. xxxiv. Ed. 1502. 


100 


THE LIFE OF 


[cn. III. 

centuries, was at length expiated in the blood of the most 
guiltless of his descendants, and whose views were uniformly 
directed towards the aggrandizement of his dominions and 
the depression of his subjects, was desirous of connecting his 
family with that of Ferdinand king of Naples, by the marriage 
of his eldest son with a daughter of that prince. To this 
end he conceived it necessary to address himself to some 
person, whose general character, and influence with Ferdi¬ 
nand, might promote his views, and for that purpose he 
selected Lorenzo de’ Medici. The confidential letter from 
Louis to Lorenzo on this occasion is yet extant, and affords 
some striking traits of the character of this ambitious, crafty, 
and suspicious monarch . 40 After expressing his high opi¬ 
nion of Lorenzo, and his unshaken attachment to him, he 
gives him to understand, that he is informed a negotiation 
is on foot for a marriage between the eldest daughter of the 
king of Naples, and the duke of Savoy, upon which the 
king was to give her a portion of 300,000 ducats. Without 
apologizing for his interference, he then mentions his desire 
that a connexion of this nature should take place between 
the princess and his eldest son the Dauphin, and requests 
that Lorenzo would communicate his wishes to the king of 
Naples. To this proposal Louis adds the promise of his 
favour and protection to Ferdinand against the house of 
Anjou; requiring however his assistance, in return, against 
John king of Aragon, and his other enemies; alluding to 
the duke of Burgundy, whom he was then attempting to 
despoil of his dominions. After making further arrange¬ 
ments respecting the proposed nuptials, he requests that 
Lorenzo would send some confidential person to reside with 
him for a time, and to return to Florence as often as might 
be requisite; but with, particular injunctions that he should 
have no intercourse with any of the French nobility or 
princes of the blood. The conclusion of the letter conveys 
a singular request: conscious of his guilt, Louis distrusted 
all his species, and he desires that Lorenzo would furnish 
him with a large dog, of a particular breed, which he was 
known to possess, for the purpose of attending on his person 

40 For this letter, first published by Fabroni, v. App. No. XIV. 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


101 


1473] 

and guarding his bed-chamber. 41 Notwithstanding the 
apparent seriousness with which Louis proposes to connect 
his family by marriage with that of the king of Naples, it is 
probable that such proposal was only intended to delay or 
prevent the marriage of the princess with the duke of 
Savoy. Whether Ferdinand considered it in this _ .. . 

light, or whether he had other reasons to suspect declines the 
the king of France of sinister or ambitious views, proposal * 
he returned a speedy answer, 42 in which, after the warmest 
professions of personal esteem for Lorenzo, and after ex¬ 
pressing his thorough sense of the honour he should derive 
from an alliance with a monarch who might justly be esteemed 
the greatest prince on earth, he rejects the proposition on 
account of the conditions that accompanied it; declaring 
that no private considerations should induce him to interrupt 
the friendship subsisting between him and his ally the duke 
of Burgundy, or his relation the king of Spain, and that he 
would rather lose his kingdom, and even his life, than suffer 
such an imputation upon his honour and his character. If 
in his reply he has alleged the true reasons for declining a 
connexion apparently so advantageous to him, it must be 
confessed that his sentiments do honour to his memory. 
The magnanimity of Ferdinand affords a striking contrast 
to the meanness and duplicity of Louis XI. It is scarcely 
necessary to add that the proposed union never took place. 
The Dauphin, afterwards Charles VIII. married the accom¬ 
plished daughter of the duke of Bretagne, and some years 
afterwards expelled the family of his once-intended father- 
in-law from their dominions, under the pretence of a will, 
made in favour of Louis XI. by a count of Provence, one of 
that very family of Anjou, against whose claims Louis had 
himself proposed to defend the king of Naples. 

Sixtus IV. at the time he ascended the pontifical chair, 
had several sons, upon whom, in the character of Ambition 
nephews, he afterwards bestowed the most impor- andrapacuy 
tant offices and the highest dignities of the church. 

The indecency of Sixtus, in thus lavishing upon his spurious 

41 -Vigilum canum 

Tristes excubiae. Hor. 

4 * Vide App. No. XV. 


102 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. III. 

offspring the riches of the Roman see, could only be equalled 
by their profuseness in dissipating them. Piero Riario, in 
whose person were united the dignities of cardinal of 
S. Sisto, patriarch of Constantinople, and archbishop of 
Plorence, expended at a single entertainment in Rome, 
given by him in honour of the duchess of Ferrara, 20,000 
ducats, and afterwards made a tour through Italy with such 
a degree of splendour, and so numerous a retinue, that the 
pope himself could not have displayed greater magnificence. 43 
His brother Girolamo was dignified with the appellation of 
count; and that it might not be regarded as an empty title, 
40,000 ducats were expended in purchasing from the family 
of Manfredi the territory of Imola, of which he obtained 
possession, 44 and to which he afterwards added the domi- 
rifonof Forli. The city of Castello became no less an object 
of fine ambition of Sixtus; but instead of endeavouring to 
possess himself of it by compact, he made an attempt to 
wrest it by force from Niccolo Vitelli, who then held the 
sovereignty; for which purpose he despatched against it 
another of his equivocal relations, Giuliano della Rovere, 
who afterwards became pope under the name of Julius II. 
and who, in the character of a military cardinal, had just 
before sacked the city of Spoleto, and put the inhabitants 
to the sword. Niccolo having obtained the assistance of 
the duke of Milan and of the Florentines, made a vigorous 
defence, and, though obliged at length to capitulate, obtained 
respectable terms. His long resistance was attributed by the 
pope, and not without reason, to Lorenzo de’ Medici, who, 
independent of his private regard for Niccolo, could not be an 
indifferent spectator of an unprovoked attack upon a place 
which immediately bordered on the territories of Florence, 
League be- and greatly contributed towards their security. 
dukTof mu These depredations, which were supposed to be 
ian, the Ve- countenanced by the king of Naples, roused the 
the^Fioren- attention of the other states of Italy; and, towards 
tines. the close of the year 1474, a league was concluded 
at Milan, between the duke, the Venetians, and the Flo¬ 
rentines, for their mutual defence, to which neither the pope 

43 Muratori Ann. vol. ix. p. 515. 44 Ibid. p. 516. 


LORENZO DE ? MEDICI. 


103 


1474.J 

nor the king were parties: liberty was however reserved for 
those potentates to join in the league if they thought proper; 
but this they afterwards refused, probably considering this 
article of the treaty as inserted rather for the purpose of 
deprecating their resentment, than with the expectation of 
their acceding to the compact. 45 

In this year, under the magistracy of Donato Acciajuoli, 
a singular visitor arrived at Florence. This was The king 
Christian, or Christiern, king of Denmark and of Denmark 
Sweden, who was journeying to Rome, for the rend 
purpose, as was alleged, of discharging a vow. A ‘ D ‘ 1474 ‘ 
He is described by the Florentine historians as of a grave 
aspect, with a long and white beard; and although he was 
considered as a barbarian, they admit that the qualities of 
his mind did not derogate from the respectability >of his 
external appearance. Having surveyed the city, and paid 
a ceremonial visit to the magistrates, who received the royal 
visitor with great splendour, he requested to be favoured 
with a sight of the celebrated copy of the Greek Evangelists, 
which had been obtained some years before from Constan¬ 
tinople, and of the Pandects of Justinian, brought from 
Amalfi to Pisa, and thence to Florence. His laudable cu¬ 
riosity was accordingly gratified; and he expressed his satis¬ 
faction by declaring, through the medium of his interpreter, 
that these were the real treasures of princes; alluding, as 
was supposed, to the conduct of the duke of Milan, who had 
attempted to dazzle him with the display of that treasure of 
which he had plundered his subjects, to gratify his vanity 
and his licentiousness; on which occasion Christian had 
coldly observed, that the accumulation of riches was an 
object below the attention of a great and magnanimous 
sovereign. Ammirato attempts to shew that this remark is 
rather specious than just; but the authority of the Roman 
poet is in favour of the Goth. 46 It was a spectacle worthy 
of admiration, says the same historian, to see a king, peace¬ 
able and unarmed, pass through Italy, whose predecessors 
had not only overthrown the armies of that country, and 

45 Amm. 1st. Fior. vol.iii. p. 113. Muratori Ann. vol. ix. p. 51S. 

i6 Hor. lib. ii. Ode 2. 


104 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. III. 

harassed the kingdoms of France and of Spain, but had 
even broken and overturned the immense fabric of the 
Roman empire itself. 

If we do not implicitly join in the applauses bestowed 
progress of Landino on the professors and the tenets of 
the Platonic the Platonic or new philosophy, 47 we must not, 
academy. Qn contrary, conceive that the study of these 
doctrines was a mere matter of speculation and curiosity. 
From many circumstances, there is great reason to conclude 
that they were applied to practical use, and had a consider¬ 
able influence on the manners and the morals of the age. 
The object towards which mankind have always directed 
their aim, and in the acquisition of which every system, 
both of religion and philosophy, proposes to assist their en¬ 
deavours, is the summum bonum, the greatest possible degree 
of attainable happiness; but in what this chief good consists 
has not been universally agreed upon, and this variety of 
opinion constitutes the essential difference between the 
ancient sects of philosophy. Of all these sects there was 
none whose tenets were so elevated and sublime, so cal¬ 
culated to withdraw the mind from the gratifications of 
sense, and the inferior objects of human pursuit, as that of 
the Platonists; which, by demonstrating the imperfection 
of every sensual enjoyment, and every temporal blessing, 
rose at length to the contemplation of the Supreme Cause, 
and placed the ultimate good in a perfect abstraction from 
the world and an implicit love of God. How far these doc¬ 
trines may be consistent with our nature and destination, 
and whether such sentiments may not rather lead to a de¬ 
reliction than a completion of our duty, may perhaps be 
doubted; but they are well calculated to attract a great and 
aspiring mind. Mankind, however, often arrive at the 
same conclusion by different means; and we have in our 
days seen a sect rise up, whose professors, employing a 
mode of deduction precisely opposite to the Platonists of 
the fifteenth century, strongly resemble them in their senti¬ 
ments and manners. Those important conclusions which 

47 Land, in proem, ad lib. i. de vera nobilitate ad magnum vereque nobilem Lau- 
rentium Medicem, Petri. F. ap. Band. Spec. Lit. Flor. vol. ii. p. 38. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


105 


1474.] 

the one derived from the highest cultivation of intellect, the 
other has found in an extreme of humiliation, and a con¬ 
stant degradation and contempt of all human endowments. 
Like navigators who steer a course directly opposite, they 
meet at last at the same point of the globe; and the 
sublime reveries of the Platonists, as they appear in the 
works of some of their followers, and the doctrines of the 
modem Methodists, are at times scarcely distinguishable in 
their respective writings. 

In this system Lorenzo had been educated from his ear¬ 
liest years. Of his proficiency in it he has left a Poem of 
very favourable specimen in a poem of no in- 
considerable extent. The occasion that gave rise tercazioue -” 
to this poem appears from a letter of Ficino, who under¬ 
took to give an abstract of the doctrines of Plato in 
prose, whilst Lorenzo agreed to attempt the same subject 
in verse. Lorenzo completed his task with that facility for 
which he was remarkable in all his compositions, and sent 
it to the philosopher, who performed the part he had under¬ 
taken by giving a dry and insipid epitome of the poem of 
Lorenzo. What seems yet more extraordinary is, that 
Picino, in a letter to Bernardo Rucellai (who had married 
one of the sisters of Lorenzo), transmits to him a prosaic 
paraphrase of the beautiful address to the Deity at the con¬ 
clusion of the poem, affirming that he daily made use of it 
in his devotions, and recommending it to Bernardo, for the 
like purpose. At the same time, instead of attributing the 
composition to its real author, he adverts to it in a manner 
that Bernardo might well be excused from understanding. 48 
It is needless to add, that this subject appears to much 
greater advantage in the native dress of the poet, than in 
the prosaic garb of the philosopher. 49 The introduction is 
very pleasing. The author represents himself as leaving 

48 “ Audivi Laurentium Medicem nostrum, nonnulla horum similia ad lyram canen- 
tem, furore quodam divino, ut arbitror, concitum.” Fic. Ep. lib. i. 41. 

49 Printed without date, apparently about the close of the fifteenth century, and not 
since reprinted, nor noticed by any bibliographer. It is entitled “ Altercatione 

OVERO DIALOGO COMPOSTO DAL MAGNIFICO LORENZO DI PIERO DI COSIMO DE* 

medici nel quale si disputa tra el cittadino, el pastore quale sia piu felice vita o la 
civile o la rusticana con la determinatione facta dal philosopho dove solamente si 
truovi la vera felicita.” In 12mo. 


106 THE LIFE OF [CH. III. 

the city, to enjoy for a few days the pleasures of a country 
life. 

Da piu dolce penser tirato e scorta, 

Fuggito avea Y aspra civil tempesta, 

Per ridur Y alma in piu tranquillo porto. 

Cos! tradutto il cor da quella, a questa 
Libera vita, placida, e sicura, 

Che e quel po del ben ch’ al mondo resta: 

E per levar da mie fragil natura 

Mille pensier, che fan la mente lassa, 

Lassia il bel cerchio delle patrie mura. 

E pervenuto in parte ombrosa, e bassa, 

Amena valle che quel monte adombra, 

Che 1 vecchio nome per eta non lassa, 

La ove un verde laur’ facea ombra, 

Alla radice quasi del bel monte, 

M’ assisi, e ’1 cord d’ ogni pensier si sgombra. 


Led on by pensive thought, I left erewhile 
Those civil storms the restless city knows, 

Pleased for a time to soothe my brow of toil, 

And taste the little bliss that life bestows. 

Thus with free steps my willing course I sped 
Far from the circle of my native walls; 

And sought the vale with thickest foliage spread, 

On whose calm breast the mountain shadow falls. 

Charmed with the lovely spot, I sat me down 
Where first the hill its easy slope inclined, 

And every care that haunts the busy town, 

Fled, as by magic, from my tranquil mind. 

Whilst the poet is admiring the surrounding scenery, he 
is interrupted by a shepherd, who brings his flock to drink 
at an adjacent spring; and who, after expressing his sur¬ 
prise at meeting such a stranger, inquires from Lorenzo the 
reason of his visit. 

Dimmi per qual cagion sei qui venuto ? 

Perche i theatri, e i gran palazzi, e i templi 
Lassi, e 1’ aspro sentier ti e piu piaciuto ? 

Deh! dimmi in questi boschi hor che contempli ? 

Le pompe, le richezze, e le delitie, 

Forse vuoi prezzar piu pe’ nostri exempli ? 

—Ed io a lui—Io non so qual divitie, 

0 qual honor sien piu suavi, e dulci, 

Che questi, fuor delle civil malitie. 

Tra voi lieti pastori, tra voi bubulci, 

Odio non regna alcuno, o ria perfidia, 

Ne nasce ambition per questi sulci. 

Il ben qui si possiede senza invidia; 

Vostra avaritia ha piccola radice; 

Contenti state nella lieta accidia. 

Qui una per un altra non si dice; 

Ne e la lingua al proprio cor contraria 
Che quel ch’ oggi el fa meglio, e piu felice. 



1474.J 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


] 07 


Ne credo che gli awengha in si pura aria, 

Che ’1 cuor sospiri, e fuor la bocca rida; 

Che piu saggio e chi '1 ver piu copre e varia. 

Thy splendid halls, thy palaces forgot, 

Can paths o’erspread with thorns a charm supply; 

Or dost thou seek, from our severer lot, 

To give to wealth and power a keener joy ? 

—Thus I replied—I know no happier life, 

No better riches than you shepherds boast, 

Freed from the hated jars of civil strife, 

Alike to treachery and to envy lost. 

The weed, ambition, ’midst your furrowed field 
Springs not, and avarice little root can find; 

Content with what the changing seasons yield, 

You rest in cheerful poverty resigned. 

What the heart thinks the tongue may here disclose; 

Nor inward grief with outward smiles is drest. 

Not like the world—where wisest he who knows 
To hide the secret closest in his breast. 

Comparing the amusements of the city with the more 
natural and striking incidents of the country, he has the 
following passage :— 

S’ advien ch’ un tauro con un altro giostri, 

Credo non manco al cuor porgha diletto, 

Che feri ludi de’ theatri nostri. 

E tu giudicatore al piu perfetto 
Doni verde corona, ed in vergogna 
Si resto 1’ altro, misero, ed in dispetto. 


If chance two hulls in conflict fierce engage, 

And, stung by love, maintain the doubtful fight; 

Say, can the revels of the crowded stage 
In all its pomp afford a nobler sight ? 

Judge of the strife, thou weav’st a chaplet gay, 

And on the conqueror’s front the wreath is hung : 

Abash’d the vanquish’d takes his lonely way, 

And sullen and dejected moves along. 

The shepherd however allows not the superior happiness 
of a country life, but in reply represents, in a very forcible 
manner, the many hardships to which it is inevitably liable. 
In the midst of the debate the philosopher Marsilio ap¬ 
proaches, to whom they agree to submit the decision of 
their controversy. This affords him an opportunity of ex¬ 
plaining the philosophical tenets of Plato; in the course of 
which, after an inquiry into the real value of all subordinate 
objects and temporal acquisitions, he demonstrates, that 
permanent happiness is not to be sought for either in the 
exalted station of the one, or in the humble condition of 




THE LIFE OF 


108 


[CH. III. 


the other, but that it is finally to be found only in the 
knowledge and the love of the first great Cause. 

In order to give additional stability to these studies, 
Platonic fes- Lorenzo and his friends formed the intention of 
tiva1, renewing, with extraordinary pomp, the solemn 
annual feasts to the memory of the great philosopher, 
O which had been celebrated from the time of his death 
to that of his disciples Plotinus and Porphyrius, but had 
then been discontinued for the space of twelve hundred 
years. The day fixed on for this purpose was the 7th of 
November, which was supposed to be the anniversary, not 
only of the birth of Plato, but of his death, which happened 
among his friends at a convivial banquet, precisely at the 
close of his eighty-first year. The person appointed by 
Lorenzo to preside over the ceremony at Plorence was 
Francesco Bandini, whose rank and learning rendered him 
extremely proper for the office. On the same day another 
party met at Lorenzo’s villa at Carreggi, where he presided 
in person. At these meetings, to which the most learned 
men in Italy resorted, it was the custom for one of the 
party, after dinner, to select certain passages from the 
works of Plato, which were submitted to the elucidation of 
the company, each of the guests undertaking the illustration 
or discussion of some important or doubtful point. By this 
institution, which was continued for several years, the philo¬ 
sophy of Plato was supported not only in credit but in 
splendour, and its professors were considered as the most 
respectable and enlightened men of the age. Whatever 
Lorenzo thought proper to patronize became the admiration 
of Florence, and consequently of all Italy. He was the 
glass of fashion; and those who joined in his pursuits, or 
imitated his example, could not fail of sharing in that ap¬ 
plause which seemed to attend on every action of his life. 

Of the particular nature, or the beneficial effects of 
this establishment, little further is now to be collected, 
nor must we expect, either on this or on any other occa¬ 
sion, to meet with the transactions of the Floren- Effects of this 
tine academy in the fifteenth century. The prin- institution - 
cipal advantages of this institution seem to have been the 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


109 


1474.] 

collecting together men of talents and erudition, who had 
courage to dissent from established modes of belief, and 
supplying them with new, rational, and important topics 
of conversation. From these discourses it was not difficult 
to extract the purest lessons of moral conduct, or the sub- 
limest sentiments of veneration for the Deity; but good 
sense was the only alembic through which the true essence 
could be obtained, and this was not at hand on all occa¬ 
sions. The extravagances of some of the disciples contri¬ 
buted to sink into discredit the doctrines of their master. 
Even Ficino himself, the great champion of the sect, exhi¬ 
bits a proof, that when the imagination is once heated by 
the pursuit of a favourite object, it is difficult to restrain it 
within proper bounds. Habituated from his earliest youth 
to the study of this philosophy, and conversant only with 
Plato and his followers, their doctrines occupied his whole 
soul, and appeared in all his conduct and conversation. 
Even his epistles breathe nothing but Plato, and fatigue us 
with the endless repetition of opinions which Lorenzo has 
more clearly exhibited in a few luminous pages. Ficino 
was not, however, satisfied with following the track of Plato, 
but has given us some treatises of his own, in which he has 
occasionally taken excursions far beyond the limits which 
his master prescribed to himself. 50 We might be inclined 
to smile at his folly, or to pity his weakness, did not the 
consideration of the follies and the weaknesses of the pre¬ 
sent times, varied indeed from those of past ages, but per¬ 
haps not diminished, repress the arrogant emotion. 

Of those who more particularly distinguished themselves 
by the protection which they afforded to the new Numberand 
philosophy, or by the progress they made in the celebrity of 
study of it, Ficmo has left a numerous catalogue m 
a letter to Martinus Uranius, in which he allots the chief 
place to his friends of the family of the Medici. 51 Protected 
and esteemed by Cosmo, the same unalterable attachment 
subsisted between the philosopher and his patrons for four 
successive generations. If ever the love of science was 

50 In his treatise “ De vita Coelitus Comparanda,” we have a chapter, “ de virtute 
verborum atque cantus ad beneficium cceleste captandum,” and another, “ de astro- 
nomica diligentia in liberis procreandis,” with other disquisitions equally instructive. 
Fic. de vit. Ven. 1548, 8vo. 51 Fic. Ep. lib. xi. Ep. 30. Ed. 1497. 


110 LIFE OF LORENZO DE* MEDICI. [CH. III. 

hereditary, it must have been in this family. Of the other 
eminent men whom Ficino has enumerated, Bandini has 
given us some interesting particulars, to which consider¬ 
able additions might be made; but the number is too great, 
and the materials are too extensive, to be comprised within 
moderate limits. In perusing the catalogue of the disciples 
of this institution, we perceive that the greatest part of them 
were natives of Florence, a circumstance that may give us 
some idea of the surprising attention which was then paid 
in that city to literary pursuits. Earnest in the acquisition 
of wealth, indefatigable in improving their manufactures 
and extending their commerce, the Florentines seem not, 
however, to have lost sight of the true dignity of man, or of 
the proper objects of his regard. A thorough acquaintance 
as well with the ancient authors as with the literature of his 
own age, was an indispensable qualification in the character 
of a Florentine; but few of them were satisfied with this 
inferior praise. The WTiters of that country, of whose lives 
and productions some account is given by Negri, amount in 
number to upwards of tw T o thousand, and among these may 
be found many names of the first celebrity. In this respect 
the city of Florence stands unrivalled. A species of praise 
as honourable as it is indisputable. 



Medici Palace Built by MLchelozzi 


























Medal Struck on the Conspiracy of 1 the Pazzi. 


CHAPTER IV. 

1476—1480. 


Assassination of the duke of Milan—Ambition of Lodovico Sforza—Conspiracy of the 
Pazzi—Parties engaged in it—Family of the Pazzi—Origin of the attempt — 
Arrangements for its execution—Giuliano assassinated and Lorenzo wounded—The 
conspirators attack the palace—Repulsed by the Gonfaloniere—Punishment of the 
conspirators—Conduct of Lorenzo—Memorials of the conspiracy—Lorenzo pre¬ 
pares for his defence against the Pope and the king of Naples—Latin ode of Poli- 
tiano—Kindness of Lorenzo to the relatives of the conspirators—Violence of Sixtus 
TV. — He excommunicates Lorenzo and the magistrates—Singular reply of the Flo¬ 
rentine synod—Sixtus attempts to prevail on the Florentines to deliver up Lorenzo — 
Danger of his situation—Conduct of the war—Lorenzo negociates for peace—Death 
of Donata Acciajuoli—Various success of the war—Lorenzo resolves to visit the 
king of Naples—His letter to the magistrates of Florence—He embarks at Pisa — 
Concludes a treaty with the king—Sixtus perseveres in the war—The Turks make 
a descent upon Italy—Peace concluded with the Pope. 

Whilst Lorenzo was dividing his time between the cares 
O of government and the promotion of literature, an Assassina . 
event took place that attracted the attention of all 
Italy towards Milan. This was the death of the ian. 
duke Galeazzo Maria, who was assassinated in a A ' D ‘ 14<G ‘ 
solemn procession, and in his ducal robes, as he was enter¬ 
ing the church of St. Stefano. This daring act, which 
seems to have originated partly in personal resentment, and 
partly in an aversion to the tyranny of the duke, was not 
attended with the consequences expected by the perpe¬ 
trators ; two of whom were killed on the spot; and the 
third, Girolamo Olgiato, a youth of twenty-three years of 
age, after having been refused shelter in his father’s house, 
died upon the scaffold. On his execution he shewed the 
spirit of an ancient Roman . 1 The conspirators undoubtedly 

1 Mac. Hist, lib.vii. It appears, however, from the ancient chronicle of Donato Bossi, 
that more than one of the conspirators suffered the honid punishment which he there 



112 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

expected to meet with the countenance and protection of 
the populace, to whom they knew that the duke had ren¬ 
dered himself odious by every species of cruelty and oppres¬ 
sion. The delight which he seemed to take in shedding the 
blood of his subjects had rendered him an object of horror— 
his insatiable debauchery, of disgust : 2 he was even suspected 
of having destroyed his mother, who, as he thought, inter¬ 
fered too much in the government of Milan; and who sud¬ 
denly died as she was making her retreat from thence to 
Cremona. But no commotion whatever took place in the 
city, and Giovan Galeazzo, a child of eight years of age, 
peaceably succeeded his father in the dukedom . 3 The 
imbecility of his youth tempted the daring spirit of his 
uncle, Lodovico, to form a systematic plan for obtaining the 
government of Milan, in the execution of which he drew 
ruin upon himself, and entailed a long succession of misery 
upon his unfortunate country. 

The connexion that had long subsisted between the houses 
B f of Sforza and Medici, rendered it impossible for 
of Lodovico Lorenzo to be an mdmerent spectator ot this 
sforza. p even t. At his instance Tomaso Soderini was de¬ 
spatched to Milan, to assist by his advice the young prince 
and his mother, who had taken upon herself the regency 
during the minority of her son. The ambitious designs of 
Lodovico soon became apparent. Having persuaded his 
three brothers, Sforza duke of Bari, Ottaviano, and Ascanio, 
to second his views, he began to oppose the authority of the 
duchess, and attempted to divest her of the assistance of 
her faithful and experienced counsellor Cecco Simoneta, a 
native of Calabria, whose integrity and activity had recom¬ 
mended him to the patronage of the celebrated Francesco 
Sforza . 4 Simoneta, aware of his design, endeavoured to 
frustrate it, by imprisoning and punishing some of his 

relates:—“ Post questionem de particibus conjurationis, in vestibulo arcis, urbem ver¬ 
sus, in quaterna membra vivi discerpti sunt.” Chronic. Bossiana. Ed. Mil. 1492. 

2 Mac. lib. vii. a Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 522. 

4 Cecco was brother to the historian Simoneta, whose elegant Latin history of the 
life of Francesco Sforza has furnished future historians with some of the most inte¬ 
resting particulars of that period. This work w r as first published at Milan in 1479, 
and reprinted there in 1486. The Italian translation, by Cristoforo Landino, was 
also published at Milan, in 1490, under the title of “ La Sforziada.” 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


113 


1478.] 

accomplices of inferior rank. The four brothers imme¬ 
diately resorted to arms, and of this circumstance Simoneta 
availed himself to obtain a decree, that either banished them 
from Milan or prohibited their return. Ottaviano, one of 
the brothers, soon afterwards perished in attempting to 
cross the river Adda. These rigorous measures, instead of 
depressing the genius of Lodovico, gave a keener edge to 
his talents, and superadded to his other motives the desire 
of revenge. Nor was it long before his resentment was 
gratified by the destruction of Simoneta, who expiated by 
his death the offence he had committed against the growing 
power of the brothers . 5 No sooner was the duchess de¬ 
prived of his support, than Lodovico wrested from her feeble 
hands the sceptre of Milan, and took the young duke under 
his immediate protection; where, like a weak plant in the 
shade of a vigorous tree, he languished for a few miserable 
years, and then fell a victim to that increasing strength in 
which he ought to have found his preservation. 

The public agitation excited by the assassination of the 
duke of Milan had scarcely subsided, before an Conspiracy 
event took place at Florence of a much more atro- of the pazzi. 
cious nature, inasmuch as the objects destined to de¬ 
struction had not afforded a pretext, in any degree plausible, 
for such an attempt. Accordingly we have now to enter on 
£? a transaction that has seldom been mentioned without emo¬ 
tions of the strongest horror and detestation, and which, as 
has justly been observed, is an incontrovertible proof of the 
practical atheism of the times in which it took place. 6 —A 
transaction in which a pope, a cardinal, an archbishop, and 
several other ecclesiastics, associated themselves with a band 
of ruffians, to destroy two men who were an honour to their 
age and country; and purposed to perpetrate their crime 
at a season of hospitality, in the sanctuary of a Christian 
church, and at the very moment of the elevation of the 
host, when the audience bowed down before it, and the 
assassins were presumed to be in the immediate presence 
of their God. 

5 Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 532. 

6 Voltaire, Essai sur les Mceurs, &c. des Nations, vol. ii. p.283. Ed. Genev. 1769, 4to. 

8 


114 THE LIFE OF [CH. IV. 

At the head of this conspiracy were Sixtus IV. and his 
parties en- nephew Girolamo Riario. Raffaello Riario, the 
gaged in it. ne phew of this Girolamo, who, although a young 
man then pursuing his studies, had lately been raised to the 
dignity of cardinal, was rather an instrument than an 
accomplice in the scheme. The enmity of Sixtus to 
Lorenzo had for some time been apparent, and if not occa¬ 
sioned by the assistance which Lorenzo had afforded to 
Niccolo Yitelli, and other independent nobles, whose domi¬ 
nions Sixtus had either threatened or attacked, was cer¬ 
tainly increased by it. The destruction of the Medici 
appeared therefore to Sixtus as the removal of an obstacle 
that thwarted all his views, and by the accomplishment of 
which the small surrounding states would soon become an 
Cfeasy prey. There is, however, great reason to believe that 
the pope did not confine his ambition to these subordinate 
governments, but that, if the conspiracy had succeeded to 
his wish, he meant to have grasped at the dominion of 
Florence itself . 7 The alliance lately formed between the 
Florentines, the Venetians, and the duke of Milan, which 
was principally effected by Lorenzo de’ Medici, and by 
which the pope found himself prevented from disturbing 
the peace of Italy, was an additional and powerful motive 
of resentment . 8 One of the first proofs of the displeasure 
iO f the pope was his depriving Lorenzo of the office of trea¬ 
surer of the papal see, which he gave to the Pazzi, a Floren¬ 
tine family, who, as well as the Medici, had a public bank at 
Rome, and who afterwards became the coadjutors of Sixtus 
in the execution of his treacherous purpose. 

This family was one of the noblest and most respect- 

Famiiy of able in Florence; numerous in its members, and 
the pazzi. possessed of great wealth and influence. Of 
three brothers, two of whom had filled the office of 
gonfaloniere, only one was then living. If we may credit 

7 At least Ferdinand of Naples, the ally of Sixtus in the contest that ensued, 
assured the Florentine ambassador that such was the intention of the pope, “ che 
sapeva lui, che Sisto non tenne meno fantasia in capo d’ occupare e farsi signore di 
Firenze, che il presente sommo pontefice si habbi tenuta di occupare questo regno.”— 
Alluding to the subsequent attack made by Innocent VIII. upon the kingdom of 
Naples. Fabr. in vita Laur. vol. ii. p. 107. 8 Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 526. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


115 


1478.] 

the account of Politiano , 9 Giacopo de’ Pazzi, the surviving 
brother, who was regarded as the chief of the family, and 
far advanced in years, was an unprincipled libertine, who 
having by gaining and intemperance dissipated his paternal 
property, sought an opportunity of averting, or of conceal¬ 
ing his own ruin in that of the republic. Giacopo had no 
children; but his elder brother Piero had left seven sons, 
and his younger brother Antonio three; one of whom, 
Guglielmo de’ Pazzi, had in the lifetime of Cosmo de’ 
Medici, married Bianca, the sister of Lorenzo. Francesco, 
the brother of Guglielmo, had for several years resided prin¬ 
cipally at Borne. Of a bold and aspiring temper, he could 
not brook the superiority of the Medici, which was supposed 
to have induced him to choose that place as his residence 
in preference to Florence. 

Several of the Florentine authors have endeavoured to 
trace the reason of the enmity of this family to that of the 
Medici; but nothing seems discoverable which could plau¬ 
sibly operate as a motive, much less as a justification of 
their resentment. On the contrary, the affinity between the 
two families, and the favours conferred by the Medici on the 
Pazzi, memorials of which yet remain in the hand-writing 
of Giacopo , 10 might be presumed to have prevented animo¬ 
sity, if not to have conciliated esteem; and that they lived 
on terms of apparent friendship and intimacy is evident 
from many circumstances of the conspiracy. Machiavelli 
relates a particular injury received by one of the Pazzi, 
which, as he informs us, that family attributed to the 
Medici. Giovanni de’ Pazzi had married the daughter of 
Giovanni Borromeo, whose immense property upon his 
death should have descended to his daughter. But preten- 

9 Conjurationis pactian^e commentarium. This piece, written by a spec* 
tator, and printed in the same year in which the event took place, is as remarkable for 
the vehemence of its invective, as for the elegance of its style, and proves how deeply 
Politiano felt, and how keenly he resented the injury done to his great patrons. Not 
being republished with the other works of this author in 1498 or 1499, or in the Paris 
edition of 1519, it became extremely rare, “ tarn rarum deventum quidem, ut inter 
doctos saepe dubitatum est, an unquam typis impressum fuerit, ac inter alios ignoratus 
etiam libri titulus.” (Adimarius in praef. ad Pact. Conj. Comment. Ed. Nap. 1769.) 
Adimari having procured the ancient copy from the Strozzi library, and collated it 
with various manuscripts, republished it at Naples in 1769, with great elegance and 
copious illustrations, forming an ample quarto volume. 

10 In letters from him to Lorenzo, two of which are given by Fabroni. 


116 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

sions to it being made by Carlo, his nephew, a litigation 
ensued, in the event of which the daughter was deprived of 
her inheritance . 11 There is, however, reason to believe that 
this decree, whether justifiable or not, and of which we 
have no documents to enable us to form a judgment, was 
made many years before the death of Piero de’ Medici, 
when his sons were too young to have taken a very active 
part in it; and it is certain that it produced no ostensible 
enmity between the families. It is also deserving of notice, 
that this transaction happened at a time when Lorenzo was 
absent from Florence, on one of his youthful excursions 
through Italy . 13 

This conspiracy, of which Sixtus and his nephew were 
origin of the the real instigators, was first agitated at Rome, 
attempt. where the intercourse between the count Girolamo 
Riario and Francesco de’ Pazzi, in consequence of the 
P office held by the latter, afforded them an opportunity 
of communicating to each other their common jealousy 
of the power of the Medici, and their desire of depriving 
them of their influence in Florence; in which event it is 
highly probable, that the Pazzi were to have exercised the 
chief authority in the city, under the patronage, if not 
under the avowed dominion of the papal see. The princi¬ 
pal agent engaged in the undertaking was Francesco Salviati, 
archbishop of Pisa, to which rank he had lately been pro¬ 
moted by Sixtus, in opposition to the wishes of the Medici, 
who had for some time endeavoured to prevent him from 
exercising his episcopal functions. If it be allowed that the 
unfavourable character given of him by Politiano is exag¬ 
gerated, it is generally agreed that his qualities were the 
reverse of those which ought to have been the recommenda¬ 
tions to such high preferment. The other conspirators 
were, Giacopo Salviati, brother of the archbishop, Giacopo 
Poggio, one of the sons of the celebrated Poggio Brac- 
ciolini, and who, like all the other sons of that eminent 
scholar, had obtained no small share of literary reputa- 

11 Mac. Hist. lib. viii. 

12 This fact is authenticated by the letter from Luigi Pulci to Lorenzo de' Medici, 
dated the twenty-second of April, 1465, and now first published in the Appendix 
from the MS. in the Palazzo Vecchio at Florence. App. No. VIII. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


117 


1478 .] 

tion ; 13 Bernardo Bandini, a daring libertine, rendered des¬ 
perate by the consequences of his excesses ; Giovan Battista 
Montesicco, who had distinguished himself by his military 
talents as one of the Condottieri of the armies of the Pope ; 
Antonio Maffei, a priest of Yolterra; and Stefano da 
Bagnone, one of the apostolic scribes, with several others of 
inferior note. 

In the arrangement of their plan, which appears to have 
been concerted with great precaution and secrecy, 
the conspirators soon discovered, that the dangers merits for its 
which they had to encounter were not so likely to executlon - 
arise from the difficulty of the attempt, as from the subse¬ 
quent resentment of the Plorentines, a great majority of 
whom were strongly attached to the Medici. Hence it be¬ 
came necessary to provide a military force, the assistance of 
which might be equally requisite whether the enterprise 
proved abortive or successful. By the influence of the pope, 
the king of Naples, who was then in alliance with him, and 
on one of whose sons he had recently bestowed a cardinal’s 
hat, was also induced to countenance the attempt. 

These preliminaries being adjusted, Girolamo wrote to 
his nephew, the cardinal Riario, then at Pisa, ordering him 
to obey whatever directions he might receive from the arch¬ 
bishop. A body of two thousand men were destined to 
approach by different routes towards Florence, so as to be in 
readiness at the time appointed for striking the blow. 

Shortly afterwards the archbishop requested the presence 


13 Giacopo not only translated the Florentine history of his father from Latin into 
Italian, but has also left a specimen of his talents in a commentary on the “ Trionfo 
della Fama” of Petrarca, which was published in folio, without a date, hut, as Bandini 
conjectures, about the year 1485 or 1487. It may however be presumed, from the 
dedication of this hook to Lorenzo de’ Medici, that it was printed previous to the 
year 1478, when the author joined in this conspiracy to destroy a man, of whom, 
and of whose family, he had shortly before expressed himself in the following affec¬ 
tionate and grateful terms : “ E perche, charissimo Lorenzo, io conosco quel poco di 
cognitione e in me, tutto essere per conforto e acerrimo stimolo ne miei teneri anni, 
da Cosimo tuo avolo, pari per certo a Camillo, o Fabritio, o Scipione, o qualun- 
che altro i quali appresso di noi sono in veneratione, se fussi nato nella Romana re¬ 
publics mi pare essere obligato e costretto ogni frutto producessi per alcun tempo le 
sue gravissime monitioni et exortationi, come persona grata, a te, vero e degno suo 
herede destinarlo ; acioche intenda quel tanto di lume d’ alcuna virtu in me, reco- 
noscerlo dalla casa tua, alia quale tanto sono obligato quanto giudicherai sieno da 
stimare queste mie lettere.” Giac. Poggio in Proem. 


118 


THE LIFE OF 


CH. IV. 


of the cardinal at Florence, whither he immediately repaired, 
and took up his residence at the seat of the Pazzi, about a 
mile from the city. It seems to have been the intention of 
the conspirators to have effected their purpose at Fiesole, 
where Lorenzo then had his country residence, to which 
they supposed that he would invite the cardinal and his at¬ 
tendants. Nor were they deceived in this conjecture, for 
Lorenzo prepared a magnificent entertainment on this oc¬ 
casion ; but the absence of Giuliano, on account of indis¬ 
position, obliged the conspirators to postpone the attempt. 14 
Being thus disappointed in their hopes, another plan was 
now to be adopted; and on further deliberation it was re¬ 
solved, that the assassination should take place on the suc¬ 
ceeding Sunday, in the church of the Reparata, since called 
Santa Maria del Fiore , and that the signal for execution 
should be the elevation of the host. At the same moment, 
the archbishop and others of the conspirators were to seize 
upon the palace, or residence of the magistrates, whilst the 
office of Giacopo de Pazzi was to endeavour, by the cry of 
liberty, to incite the citizens to revolt. 

The immediate assassination of Giuliano was committed 
to Francesco de’ Pazzi and Bernardo Bandini, and that of 
Lorenzo had been intrusted to the sole hand of Montesicco. 
This office he had willingly undertaken whilst he understood 
that it was to be executed in a private dwelling; but he 
shrunk from the idea of polluting the house of God with so 
heinous a crime. Two ecclesiastics were therefore selected 
for the commission of a deed, from which the soldier was 
deterred by conscientious motives. These were Stefano da 
Bagnone, the apostolic scribe, and Antonio Maffei. 

The young cardinal having expressed a desire to attend 

Giuliano divine service in the church of the Reparata, on 
andLoinzo the ensuing Sunday, being the twenty-sixth day 
wounded. 0 f April, 1478, Lorenzo invited him and his suite 
to his house in Florence. He accordingly came with a large 
retinue, supporting the united characters of cardinal and 
apostolic legate, and was received by Lorenzo with that 
splendour and hospitality with which he was always accus- 

14 Valor, in vita Laur. p. 23 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


119 


1478.] 

tomed to entertain men of high rank and consequence. ° 
Giuliano did not appear, a circumstance that alarmed the 
conspirators, whose arrangements would not admit of longer 
delay. They soon however learned that he intended to be 
present at the church. The service was already begun, and 
the cardinal had taken his seat, when Francesco de’ Pazzi 
and Bandini, observing that Giuliano was not yet arrived, 
left the church and went to his house, in order to insure 
and hasten his attendance. Giuliano accompanied them; 
and as he walked between them, they threw their arms O 
round him with the familiarity of intimate friends, but in 
fact to discover whether he had any armour under his dress ; 15 
possibly conjecturing, from his long delay, that he had sus¬ 
pected their purpose. At the same time, by their freedom 
and jocularity, they endeavoured to obviate any apprehen¬ 
sions which he might entertain from such a proceeding. 16 
The conspirators having taken their stations near their in¬ 
tended victims, waited with impatience for the appointed 
signal. 17 The bell rang—the priest raised the consecrated 
wafer—the people bowed before it—and at the same instant 
Bandini plunged a short dagger into the breast of Giuliano. 

On receiving the wound he took a few hasty steps and fell, 
when Francesco de’ Pazzi rushed upon him with incredible 
fury, and stabbed him in different parts of his body, con¬ 
tinuing to repeat his strokes even after he was apparently 
dead. Such was the violence of his rage that he wounded 
himself deeply in the thigh. The priests who had under¬ 
taken the murder of Lorenzo were not equally successful. 

An ill-directed blow from Maffei, which was aimed at the 
throat, but took place behind the neck, rather roused him^ 
to his defence than disabled him. He immediately threw 
off his cloak, and holding it up as a shield in his left hand, 

15 Mac. lib. 8. 

16 Giuliano was indisposed, and totally unarmed, having left at home even his 
dagger, which he was generally accustomed to wear. Synod. Flor. Act. ap. Fabr. vol. 
ii. p. 134. 

17 In the point of time fixed for the perpetration of this deed, historians are nearly 

agreed. “ Cum Eucharistia attoileretur,” says Raffaello da Volt. Geogr. 151. “ Cum 
sacerdos manibus Eucharistiam frangeret.” Val. in vita, p. 24. “ Peracta sacerdotis 

communione,” says Politiano. “ Post Eucharisti® consecrationem.” In Prov. Rep. 

Flor. ap. Fabr. vol. ii. p. 111. “ Quandosi communicava il sacerdote.” Mac. 

lib. 8. 


120 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

with his right he drew his sword, and repelled his assailants. 
Perceiving that their purpose was defeated, the two eccle¬ 
siastics, after having wounded one of Lorenzo’s attendants 
who had interposed to defend him, endeavoured to save 
themselves by flight. At the same moment, Bandini, his 
dagger streaming with the blood of Giuliano, rushed towards 
Lorenzo; but meeting in his way with Francesco Nori, a 
person in the service of the Medici, and in whom they 
placed great confidence, he stabbed him with a wound in¬ 
stantaneously mortal . 18 At the approach of Bandini the 
friends of Lorenzo encircled him, and hurried him into the 
sacristy, where Politiano and others closed the doors, which 
were of brass. Apprehensions being entertained that the 
weapon which had wounded him was poisoned, a young 
man attached to Lorenzo sucked the wound . 19 A general 
alarm and consternation commenced in the church; and 
such was the tumult which ensued, that it was at first be¬ 
lieved that the building was falling in ; but no sooner was 
it understood that Lorenzo was in danger, than several 
of the youth of Florence formed themselves into a body, 
and receiving him into the midst of them, conducted him 
to his house, making a circuitous turn from the church, lest 
he should meet with the dead body of his brother. 

Whilst these transactions passed in the church, another 
Theconspi- commotion arose in the palace; where the arch- 
rators attack bishop, who had left the church, as agreed upon 
before the attack of the Medici, and about thirty 
of his associates, attempted to overpower the magistrates, and 
to possess themselves of the seat of government . 20 Leaving 
some of his followers stationed in different apartments, the 


18 When Leo X. many years afterwards paid a visit to Florence, he granted an 
indulgence to all those who should pray for the soul of Francesco Nori, under the 
idea that his death had preserved the life of his father Lorenzo. Adimar. in not. p. 20. 

19 “ Aggressus in eos factus fuit a Francisco de Pazzis, et aliis pluribus suis sotiis 
armatis armis veneno infectis,” says Matteo de Toscano, cited by Adimari, (Documenta 
Conj. Pract. p. 142.) I do not find that any other author mentions this circumstance. 
The young man who gave this striking proof of his . affection to Lorenzo, was An¬ 
tonio Ridolfo, of a noble family of Florence. Pol. Conj. Pact. Comment, in App. 

20 “ Con la sua compagnia, ch’ erano circa persone ventotto,” says Belfredello 
Strinato, ap. Adimar. in not. p. 17. Ammirato informs us, that the archbishop had 
about thirty followers, and that he left the church on the pretence of paying a visit 
to his mother. Amm. 1st. vol. iii. p. 117. 


1478 .] LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 121 

archbishop proceeded to an interior chamber, where Cesare 
Petrucci, then gonfaloniere, and the other magistrates, 
were assembled. No sooner was the gonfaloniere informed 
of his approach, than out of respect to his rank he rose to 
meet him. Whether the archbishop was disconcerted by 
the presence of Petrucci, who was known to be of a resolute 
character, of which he had given a striking instance in 
frustrating the attack of Bernardo Nardi upon the town of 
Prato, or whether his courage was not equal to the under¬ 
taking, is uncertain; but instead of intimidating the magis¬ 
trates by a sudden attack, he began to inform Petrucci that 
the pope had bestowed an employment on his son, of which 
he had to deliver to him the credentials. This he did with 
such hesitation, and in so desultory a manner, that it was 
scarcely possible to collect his meaning. Petrucci also ob¬ 
served that he frequently changed colour, and at times 
turned towards the door, as if giving a signal to some one 
to approach.—Alarmed at his manner, and probably aware 
of his character, Petrucci suddenly rushed out of the cham¬ 
ber, and called together the guards and attendants. By 
attempting to retreat, the archbishop confessed his guilt. 21 
In pursuing him, Petrucci met with Giacopo Poggio, whom 
he caught by the hair, and, throwing him on the ground, 
delivered him into the custody of his followers. Repulsed by 
The rest of the magistrates and their attendants ^LTndma" 
seized upon such arms as the place supplied, and s istrates - 
the implements of the kitchen became formidable weapons 
in their hands. Having secured the doors of the palace, 
they furiously attacked their scattered and intimidated 
enemies, who no longer attempted resistance. During this 
commotion they were alarmed by a tumult from without, 
and perceived from the windows Giacopo de’ Pazzi, followed 
by about one hundred soldiers, crying out liberty, and ex¬ 
horting the people to revolt. At the same time they found J 

21 He was deprived of his expected support by a singular incident. Some of his 
followers had retired into an adjoining chamber to wait his signal. It was custo¬ 
mary for every succeeding magistrate to make an alteration in the doors of that 
place, as a precaution against treachery ; and Petrucci had so constructed them that 
they closed and bolted on the slightest impulse. The followers of the archbishop 
thus found themselves unexpectedly secured in the chamber, without the possibility 
of affording assistance to their leader. Fabr. vol. i. p. 67. vol. ii. p. 108. 


122 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

that the insurgents had forced the gates of the palace, and 
that some of them were entering to defend their compa¬ 
nions. The magistrates however persevered in their defence, 
and repulsing their enemies, secured the gates till a rein¬ 
forcement of their friends came to their assistance. Petrucci 
was now first informed of the assassination of Giuliano, and 
the attack made upon Lorenzo. The relation of this treachery 
excited his highest indignation. With the concurrence of 
the state councillors, he ordered Giacopo Poggio to be hung in 
sight of the populace, out of the palace windows, and secured 
the archbishop, with his brother and the other chiefs of the 
conspiracy. Their followers were either slaughtered in the 
palace, or thrown half alive through the windows. One only 
of the whole number escaped. He was found some days 
afterwards concealed in the wainscots, perishing with hunger, 
and in consideration of his sufferings received his pardon. 

The young cardinal Riario, who had taken refuge at the 
punishment a lf ar > was preserved from the rage of the populace 
of the con- by the interference of Lorenzo, who appeared to 
spirators. g^ ve crec pt to his asseverations, that he was ignorant 
of the intentions of the conspirators. 22 It is said that his 
fears had so violent an effect upon him that he never after¬ 
wards recovered his natural complexion. His attendants fell 
a sacrifice to the resentment of the citizens. The streets were 
polluted with the dead bodies and mangled limbs of the 
slaughtered. With the head of one of these unfortunate 
wretches on a lance, the populace paraded the city which re¬ 
sounded with the cry of Pallet Pallet 23 Perish the traitor st 
jO Prancesco de’ Pazzi being found at the house of his uncle 
Giacopo, where, on account of his wound, he was confined 
to his bed, was dragged out naked and exhausted by loss of 
blood, and being brought to the palace, suffered the same 
death as his associate. His punishment was immediately 
followed by that of the archbishop, who was hung through 
° the windows of the palace, and was not allowed even to 
divest himself of his prelatical robes. The last moments of 
Salviati, if we may credit Politiano, were marked by a 

22 Valor, in vita Laur. p. 26. 

23 The palle d’oro, or golden balls, the arms of the family of Medici. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


123 


1478 .] 

singular instance of ferocity. Being suspended close to 
Francesco de’ Pazzi, he seized the naked body with his teeth, 
and relaxed not from his hold even in the agonies of death . 24 
Jacopo de 5 Pazzi had escaped from the city during the 
tumult; but the day following he was made a prisoner by 
the neighbouring peasants, who, regardless of his entreaties 
to put him to death, brought him to Florence, and de¬ 
livered him up to the magistrates. As his guilt was mani¬ 
fest, his execution was instantaneous, and afforded from the 
windows of the palace another spectacle that gratified the 
resentment of the enraged multitude. His nephew Benato, 
who suffered at the same time, excited in some degree the 
commiseration of the spectators. Devoted to his studies, 
and averse to popular commotions, he had refused to be an 
actor in the conspiracy, and his silenc e was his only crime. 
The body of Giacopo had been interred in the church of 
Santa Croce, and to this circumstance the superstition of 
the people attributed an unusual and incessant fall of rain 
that succeeded these disturbances. Partaking in their pre¬ 
judices or desirous of gratifying their revenge, the magis¬ 
trates ordered his body to be removed without the walls of 
the city. The following morning it was again torn from 
the grave by a great multitude of children, who, in spite of 
the restrictions of decency, and the interference of some of 
the inhabitants, after dragging it a long time through the 
streets, and treating it with every degree of wanton oppro¬ 
brium, threw it into the river Arno . 25 Such was the fate 
of a man who had enjoyed the highest honour of the repub¬ 
lic, and for his services to the state had been rewarded with 
the privileges of equestrian rank . 26 The rest of this devoted 
family were condemned either to imprisonment or to exile, 
excepting only Guglielmo de’ Pazzi, who, though not un¬ 
suspected, was first sheltered from the popular fury in the 

24 In the opinion of Politiano, the crime of the archbishop was not expiated by 
his death. Amongst his poems, printed in the edition of Basil, are several epigrams 
that strongly speak his unquenchable resentment. 

2 5 Landuccius, ap. Adimar. in not. p. 43. Politiano, who seems to dwell with 
pleasure on the excesses of an enraged populace, relates more particularly their in¬ 
sults to the lifeless body of Jacopo. 

26 Machiavelli, who bore no partiality towards the Medici, gives us a more fa¬ 
vourable idea of the character of Jacopo. Mac. lib. 8. 



124 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

house of Lorenzo, and was afterwards ordered to remain at 
his own villa, about twenty-five miles distant from Florence. 

Although most diligent search was made for the priests 
who had undertaken the murder of Lorenzo, it was not till 
the third day after the attempt that they were discovered, 
having obtained a shelter in the monastery of the Bene¬ 
dictine monks. No sooner were they brought from the 
^ place of their concealment, than the populace, after cruelly 
mutilating them, put them to death; and with difficulty 
were prevented from slaughtering the monks themselves. 
Montesicco, who had adhered to the cause of the conspira¬ 
tors, although he had refused to be the active instrument of 
their project, was taken a few days afterwards, as he was 
endeavouring to save himself by flight, and beheaded, 
having first made a full confession of all the circumstances 
attending the conspiracy, by which it appeared that the 
pope was privy to the whole transaction. The punishment 
of Bernardo Bandini was longer delayed. He had safely 
passed the bounds of Italy, and had taken refuge at length 
in Constantinople; but the sultan Mahomet, being apprized 
of his crime, ordered him to be seized, and sent in chains 
to Florence; at the same time alleging, as the motive of 
his conduct, the respect which he had for the character of 
Lorenzo de’ Medici. He arrived in the month of December 
in the ensuing year, and met with the due reward of his 
treachery. An embassy was sent from Florence to return 
thanks to the sultan in the name of the republic. 27 

Throughout the whole of this just but dreadful retribu- 
Conduct of tion, Lorenzo had exerted all his influence to re- 
Lorenzo. strain the indignation of the populace, and to 
Q prevent the further effusion of blood. Soon after the 
attempt upon his life, an immense multitude surrounded 
his house, and, not being convinced of his safety, demanded 
to see him. He seized the opportunity which their affec- 


27 Strinatus, ap. Adimar. in notis ad Conj. Pact. Comment, p. 29. Adimari, on the 
authority of the Chronicle of Carlo a Florentiola, attributes the seizure of Bandini 
to the orders of the sultan Bajazet; but the capture of Bandini took place in the 
reign of his predecessor Mahomet II. whose death did not happen till the year 1481. 
Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 537. Sagrado, Mem. Istor. de’ Monarchi Ottomaui, p. 95. 
Ed. Ven. 1688. * 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


125 


1478.] 

tion afforded, and, notwithstanding his wound, endeavoured, 
by a pathetic and forcible address, to moderate the violence 
of their resentment. He entreated that they would resign 
to the magistrates the task of ascertaining and of punishing 
the guilty, lest the innocent should be incautiously involved 
in destruction. 28 His appearance and his admonitions had 
a powerful and instantaneous effect. With one voice the 
people devoted themselves to the support of his cause, and 
besought him to take all possible precautions for his safety, 
as upon that depended the hopes and welfare of the republic. 
However Lorenzo might be gratified with these proofs of 
the affection of his fellow-citizens, he could not but lament 
that inconsiderate zeal which was so likely to impel them to 
a culpable excess. Turning to some of the Florentine no¬ 
bility by whom he was attended, he declared that he felt 0 
more anxiety from the intemperate acclamations of his 
friends, than he had experienced even from his own disasters. 29 

The general sorrow for the loss of Giuliano was strongly 
marked. On the fourth day after his death his obsequies 
were performed, with great magnificence, in the church of 
S. Lorenzo. It appeared that he had received from the 
daggers of Bandini and Francesco de 5 Pazzi no less than 
nineteen wounds. 30 Many of the Florentine youth changed 
their dress in testimony of respect to his memory. In the 
predilection of the Florentines for Giuliano historians are 
agreed. Even Machiavelli allows that he possessed all the ^ 
humanity and liberality that could be wished for in one born 
to such an elevated station, and that his funeral was honoured 
by the tears of his fellow-citizens. 31 Tall of stature—strong 
in his person—his breast prominent—his limbs full and 
muscular—dark eyes—a lively look—an olive complexion— 
loose black hair turned back from his forehead:—such is 
the portrait given of Giuliano by his intimate associate 
Politiano, who to these particulars has further added, that 
he excelled in active exercises, in horsemanship, in wrestling, 
in throwing the spear: that he was habituated to thirst and 
to hunger, and frequently passed a day in voluntary absti- 

29 Valor, in vita Laur. p. 27. 

31 Mac. Hist. lib. 8. 


28 Amm. 1st. vol. iii. p. 118. 

30 Pol. Conj. Pact. Com. in App. 


126 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

nence: possessed of great courage, of unshaken fortitude, 
a friend to religion and order, an admirer of painting, music, 
and other elegant arts. From the same author we also 
learn, that Giuliano had given proofs of his poetical talents 
in several pieces remarkable for their strength of diction and 
plenitude of thought; but of these no specimens now re¬ 
main. 32 

Shortly after this transaction, Lorenzo received a visit 
from Antonio da San Gallo, who informed him that the un¬ 
timely death of Giuliano had prevented his disclosing to 
Lorenzo a circumstance with which it was now become ne¬ 
cessary that he should be acquainted. 33 This was the birth 
of a son, whom a lady of the family of Gorini had borne 
to Giuliano about twelve months before his death, and whom 
Antonio had held over the baptismal font, where he received 
the name of Giulio. Lorenzo immediately repaired to the 
place of the infant’s residence, and taking him under his 
protection, delivered him to Antonio, with whom he re¬ 
mained until he arrived at the seventh year of his age. 
This concealed offspring of illicit love, to whom the kind¬ 
ness of Lorenzo supplied the untimely loss of a father, was 
destined to act an important part in the affairs of Europe. 
The final extinction of the liberties of Florence ; the alliance 
of the family of Medici with the royal house of France; the 
expulsion of Henry VIII. of England from the bosom of 
the Roman church, and the consequent establishment of 
the doctrines of the reformers in this island, are principally 
to be referred to this illegitimate son of Giuliano de’ Medici, 
who, through various vicissitudes of fortune, at length ob¬ 
tained the supreme direction of the Roman see, and under 
the name of Clement VII. guided the bark of St. Peter 
through a succession of the severest storms which it has 
ever experienced. 34 

32 The sonnets now preserved in the Laurentian Library under the name of Giu¬ 
liano de' Medici, are by the son of Lorenzo, and brother of Leo X. 

33 Cod. Abbat. Flor. ap. Adimar. in notis ad Conj. Pact. Com. p. 40. 

34 Machiavelli, who wrote his history in the pontificate of Clement VII. informs 
us, that this pontiflf was born a few months after the death of his father, in wdiich he 
has been generally followed by succeeding writers. (Mac. lib. 8.) A full account of 
the political transactions of Clement VII. will be found in the Florentine history of 
Benedetto Varchi, written under the auspices of Cosmo I. grand duke of Florence, 
who granted the author access to all the archives of his family. The favour of an 


1478.] LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 127 

The public grief occasioned by the death of Giuliano was 
however mingled with, and alleviated by exultation Memorials 
for the safety of Lorenzo . 35 Every possible method the con- 
was devised to brand with infamy the perpetrators splracy ‘ 
of the deed. By a public decree, the name and arms of 
the Pazzi were ordered to be for ever suppressed. The ap¬ 
pellations of such places in the city as were derived from 
that family, were directed to be changed. All persons con¬ 
tracting marriage with the descendants of Andrea de’ Pazzi 
were declared to be ammoniti , and prohibited from all 
offices and dignities in the republic. The ancient ceremony 
of conducting annually the sacred fire from the church of 
S. Giovanni to the house of the Pazzi was abolished, and a 
new method was adopted of continuing this popular super¬ 
stition . 36 Andrea dal Castagno was employed at the public 
expense, to represent the persons of the traitors on the walls 
of the palace, in the execution of which he obtained great- 
applause, although the figures, as a mark of infamy, were 
suspended by the feet . 37 On the other hand the skill of the 
Florentine artists was exerted in soothing the feelings, and 
gratifying the curiosity of the public, by perpetuating the 
remembrance of the dangers which Lorenzo had escaped. 
By the assistance of Andrea Verocchio, Orsini, a celebrated 
modeller in wax, formed three figures as large as the life, 
which bore the most perfect resemblance of the person and 
features of Lorenzo, and which were placed in different 
churches of the territory of Florence. One of these repre¬ 
sented him in the dress which he wore when he received 
the wound, and as he appeared to the populace at the win¬ 
dow of his palace . 38 A more lasting memorial was devised 

absolute sovereign did not seduce Varchi from the duty of an historian; but the ex¬ 
treme freedom with which he commented upon the events which led to the subjuga¬ 
tion of his country, and animadverted on the characters of Clement VII. and others 
who contributed towards it, prevented for nearly two centuries the publication of his 
work, which first appeared at Cologne in 1721, in folio, and afterwards without date 
at Leyden, ap. Pietro vander Aa. 

35 v. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 103. 

36 The decree on this occasion appears amongst the documents published by Fa- 
broni. 

37 Vasari, nella vita di Andrea dal Castagno. 

38 V. Vasari, nella vita di Andr. Verocchio, where a particular account is given of 
these figures. One of them was placed in the church of the Chiariti “ dinanzi al 
Crucifisso che fa miracoli.” It appears they were all remaining at the time Vasari 
wrote. 


128 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

by Antonio Pollajuoli, who struck a medal on this occasion, 
exhibiting in the ancient choir of the Reparata, the as¬ 
sassination of Giuliano, and the attack made upon Lorenzo. 
In this medal, the conspirators are all represented naked, 
not merely for the purpose of displaying the knowledge of 
the artist in the human figure, in which he excelled all 
his contemporaries, but, as some have conjectured, as 
being characteristic of the flagitious act in which they were 
engaged. 39 

Although the body of troops destined to support the 

Lorenzo conspirators had kept aloof from the scene of ac- 
his Pa defenee ^ 0I1 ’ an d with difficulty effected their retreat from 
against the the Florentine dominions, 40 yet Lorenzo was well 
Eg of Na- aware of the storm that was gathering around 
pies. him, and with equal prudence and resolution pre¬ 
pared to meet it. By the confession of Montesicco, he was 
fully informed of the implacable hatred of the pope, which 
was inflamed almost to madness by the miscarriage of his 
designs, and the publicity of his treachery. Lorenzo also 
knew that the king of Naples, who was not less formidable 
to Italy from the ferocity and military reputation of his son 
Alfonso, duke of Calabria, than from the extent and re¬ 
sources of his own dominions, would most probably concur 
with the pope. His comprehensive eye saw at one glance 
the extent of the danger to which he was exposed, and he 
accordingly adopted every measure that might be likely to 
oppose or to avert it. He addressed himself to all the 
Italian states, with strong representations of the conduct of 
the pope, and entreated them, by every motive which was 
likely to influence them, to shew their open disapprobation 
of a species of treachery, from which neither rank, nor 
talents, nor virtue, could afford protection. He adverted 
to the fatal consequences which must arise to Italy from 
the subjugation of the Florentine republic, and connected 
his cause with that of the country at large. In the same 
terms he wrote to the kings of France and of Spain, endea¬ 
vouring to obtain their interference in his behalf, and to 
convince them of the injustice of his enemies, and of his 

39 Vasari, vita di Ant. Pollaiuoli. 


40 Raph. Volater. in Geogr. lib. v. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI, 


129 


1478 .] 

own innocence and moderation. 41 Nor was he negligent, 
in the mean time, in providing for his own defence. By 
every possible means he incited the citizens of Florence to 
make preparation for repelling their enemies. He procured 
from all quarters large supplies of provisions, with every <3 
other requisite for supporting an obstinate siege. The 
activity of Lorenzo infused a similar spirit into those around 
him, and the hopes of the people were supported by the 
early appearance, in Mugello, of Giovanni Bentivoglio, the 
firm ally of the Medici, with a chosen band of soldiers, 
which he led to the relief of Lorenzo as soon as he was 
apprized of his danger. Moved by his representations, or 
jealous of the power of the pope and of the king of Naples, 
several other states of Italy warmly espoused the cause of 
the Florentines. Ercole d’Este, duke of Ferrara, attended 
in person with a powerful reinforcement. The Venetians, 
although cautious in their determination, displayed a mani¬ 
fest partiality to the Florentines; and even the kings of 
Spain, and of France, transmitted to Lorenzo the fullest 
assurances of their conviction of the rectitude of his conduct, ^ 
and of their willingness to interpose with all their authority 
in his behalf. 42 So favourable a concurrence of circum¬ 
stances gave fresh spirits to the Florentines, and removed 
in a great degree the apprehensions of the friends of the 
Medici. At this juncture Politiano addressed to odeofpo- 
Gentile d’Urbino, bishop of Arezzo, a Latin ode, litiaDO * 
which is not less entitled to notice for its intrinsic merit, 


41 Louis XI. had anticipated his communication by a letter written to Lorenzo, im¬ 
mediately after the intelligence of the assassination had arrived at Paris, in which he 
expressed the warmest resentment against the authors of the treachery. These 
letters are yet extant, and are given from the documents of Fabroni, in the Appendix, 
No. XVI. 

42 Philip de Comines was sent by Louis XI. to Florence, from whence he afterwards 
went to Milan, to request the Milanese to send a body of soldiers to the relief of the 
Florentines, with which he informs us they complied, “ tant a la requete du Roi, que 
pour faire leur devoir.” Speaking of the Florentines, he further adds, “ La faveur du 
Roi leur fait quelque chose : mais non pas tant que j’eusse volu. Car je n’avoye armee 
pourles aider; mais seulement avoye mon train. Jedemourayau dit lieu de Flo¬ 
rence un an, ou en leurs territoires, et hien traitte d’eux, et a leurs despens, et mieux 
le dernier jour quele premier.” (Mem. de P. Commines, lib. vi. c. 5.) For this last 
assertion the French statesman had sufficient reason ; for Aramirato informs us, that 
at his departure from Florence the republic presented him with fifty-five pounds 
weight of wrought silver for the use of his table. Amm. iii. 126. 


9 


130 


THE LIFE OF [CH. IV. 

than as an authentic indication of the public opinion at 
the time it was written . 43 

AD GENTILEM EPISCOPUM. 

Gentiles animi maxima pars mei, 

Communi nimium sorte quid angeris ? 

Quid curis animum lugubribus teris, 

Et me discrucias simul ? 

Passi digna quidem perpetuo sumus 
Luctu, qui mediis (heu miseri) sacris 
Ilium, ilium juvenem, vidimus, 0 nefas! 

Stratum sacrilega manu! 

At sunt attonito quae dare pectori 
Solamen valeant plurima, nam super 
Est, qui vel gremio creverit in tuo, 

Laurens Etruriae caput. 

Laurens quern patriae caelicolum pater 
Tutum terrifica gorgone praestitit; 

Quern Tuscus pariter, quern Venetus Leo 
Servant, et Draco pervigil. 

Illi bellipotens excubat Hercules; 

Illi fatiferis militat arcubus; 

Illi mittit equos Francia martios, 

Felix Francia regibus. 

Circumstat populus murmure dissono; 

Circumstant juvenem purpurei patres; 

Causa vincimus et robore militum; 

Hac stat Juppiter, hac favet. 

Quare, 0 cum misera quid tibi Nenia, 

Si nil proficimus ? quin potius gravis 
Absterisse bono laetitiae die 
Audes nubila pectoris. 

Nam cum jam gelidos umbra reliquerit 
Artus, non dolor hanc perpetuus retro, 

Mordacesve trahunt sollicitudines, 

Mentis curaque pervicax. 


O Friend, whose woes this bosom shares, 

Why ceaseless mourn our mutual cares ? 

Ah, why thy days to grief resign, 

With thy regrets recalling mine ? 

Eternal o’er the atrocious deed, 

’Tis true our kindred hearts may bleed; 

When He, twin glory of our land, 

Fell by a sacrilegious hand! 

43 Politiano afterwards sent this poem, with an address, to Lorenzo de’ Medici. Pol. 
Op. Ed. Aid. 1498. 



1478 .] 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


131 


But sure, my friend, there yet remains 
Some solace for these piercing pains, 

Whilst He, once nurtured at thy side, 

Lorenzo lives, Etruria’s pride. 

Lorenzo, o’er whose favour’d head, 

Jove his terrific gorgon spread; 

Whose steps the lion pair await, 

Of Florence, and Venetia’s state. 

For him his crest the dragon rears; 

For him the Herculean band appears; 

Her martial succour Gallia brings ; 

Gallia that glories in her kings! 

See round the youth the purpled band 
Of venerable fathers stand; 

Exulting crowds around him throng 
And hail him as he moves along. 

Strong in our cause and in our friends, 

Our righteous battle Jove defends ; 

Thy useless sorrows then represt, 

Let joy once more dilate thy breast. 

To animate the clay-cold frame, 

No sighs shall fan the vital flame; 

Nor all the tears that love can shed, 

^ Recall to life the silent dead. 

Notwithstanding the vigour and activity of Lorenzo in 
preparing for the war, he was anxiously desirous Kindnessof 
of preventing, if possible, such a calamity. By Lorenzo to 
his moderation, and even kindness to the surviving of the con- 
relatives of the conspirators, he sought to obliterate spirators - 
the remembrance of past disturbances, and to unite all the 
citizens in one common cause. Upwards of one hundred 
persons had already perished, some by the hands of justice, 
and others by the fury of the populace. Many had ab¬ 
sconded or concealed themselves, under apprehensions of 
being charged with a participation of the crime. Among 
the latter was Averardo Salviati, a near relation of the arch¬ 
bishop of Pisa. Lorenzo being informed that he had se¬ 
creted himself in his house, requested, by the mediation 
of a common friend, an interview with him, and on his 
arrival received him with such tokens of kindness and bene¬ 
volence as drew tears from all who were present . 44 Salviati 
was not ungrateful: a closer intimacy took place between 

44 Valori in vita, p. 35. 


132 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

them, and a few years afterwards Lorenzo gave one of his 
daughters in marriage to Giacopo Salviati, the nephew of 
Averardo, whose character and accomplishments merited 
such an honour. The cardinal Raffaello Riario was libe¬ 
rated as soon as the tumult had subsided, and was suffered 
to return to Rome. 45 To Raffaello Maffei of Volterra, the 
brother of Antonio, one of the priests who had undertaken 
the assassination of Lorenzo, a man distinguished by his 
uncommon learning and indefatigable spirit of research, 
Lorenzo wrote a Latin letter, full of kindness and urbanity, 
which, on account of the elegance of its diction, Maffei 
erroneously attributed to the pen of Politiano. 46 /Even the 
survivors of the Pazzi family, although they had at first 
been treated with great severity, were, by the interference 
of Lorenzo, in a short time restored to their former honours. 
The only public monument that remained of this trans¬ 
action was the painting on the walls of the palace by 
Andrea dal Castagno, which was suffered to remain long 
after the family of the Pazzi had been reinstated in their 
ancient rights and dignity. 

The generosity and moderation of Lorenzo, although they 
violence of endeared him still more to his fellow-citizens, 
*=> iv. } mc [ no effect upon the temper of Sixtus, who 
no sooner heard of the miscarriage of his design, the 
death of the archbishop, and the restraint imposed upon 
the cardinal, than he gave a loose to his impetuosity, and 
poured out against Lorenzo the bitterest invectives. In the 
first paroxysms of his anger, he directed that the property 
of the Medici and of all Plorentine citizens then in Rome 
should be confiscated, and the Plorentines themselves im¬ 
prisoned ; and had he not entertained apprehensions respect¬ 
ing the fate of the cardinal, it is probable that he would 

45 Whatever share the cardinal had in the conspiracy, he was by no means insensi¬ 
ble of the lenity that had been shewn him. In a letter to the pope of the 10th of 
June, 1478, some days after he was liberated, he expresses the strongest sense of his 
obligations to the Florentines, and in particular to Lorenzo de’ Medici: he remon¬ 
strates with the pope in warm terms on the injustice of subjecting to ecclesiastical 
censures, those persons to whom he is indebted for his preservation ; and declares his 
resolution not to leave Florence until the sentence of excommunication issued by 
Sixtus be annulled. 

46 Raph. Volt. Com. Urb.p. 153. Ed. Lugd. 1552. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


133 


1478.] 


have treated them with still greater severity. To appease his 
wrath the republic despatched to Rome Donato Acciajuoli, a 
person no less celebrated for his talents and his learning, than 
for the credit with which he had performed the most important 
embassies and filled the highest offices of the state. This 
measure, far from pacifying the pope, seemed to add fresh 
fuel to his anger. Instead of attending to the representations 
of the ambassador, he threatened to send him as a prisoner 
to the castle of S. Angelo, and would certainly have executed 
his purpose, had not the legates from Venice and from Milan 
interfered in his favour, and declared that they should con¬ 
sider such a breach of the faith of nations as an insult to 
themselves. The resentment of Sixtus then burst He excom- 
forth through another channel. He attacked the the 

Florentines with his spiritual weapons, and ana- magistrates, 
thematized not only Lorenzo de’ Medici, but the gonfalo- 
niere and other magistrates of the republic. In the docu¬ 
ment which Sixtus issued on this occasion, Lorenzo is 
emphatically styled the “ child of iniquity and the nursling 
of perdition.” After bestowing similar epithets on the 
magistrates, Sixtus proceeds to relate the manifold offences 
of Lorenzo against the holy see. Adverting to the gentle¬ 
ness and moderation of his own character, he then declares, 
that “ according to the example of our Saviour, he had long- 
suffered in peace the insults and the injuries of his enemies, 
and that he should still have continued to exercise his for¬ 
bearance, had not Lorenzo de’ Medici, with the magistrates 
of Florence, and their abettors, discarding the fear of God, 
inflamed with fury, and instigated by diabolical suggestions, 
laid violent hands on ecclesiastical persons, proh dolor et 
inauditum scelus! hung up the archbishop, imprisoned the car¬ 
dinal, and by various means destroyed and slaughtered their 
foliowers.” He then solemnly excommunicates Lorenzo, 
the gonfaloniere, and other officers of the state, and their 
immediate successors; declaring them to be incapable of 
receiving or transmitting property by inheritance or will; 
and prohibiting their descendants from enjoying any eccle¬ 
siastical employment. By the same instrument he sus- 


jQ 


THE LIFE OF 


134 


[CH. IV. 


pended the bishops and clergy of the Florentine territories 
from the exercise of their spiritual functions. 47 

Whatever might have been the effect of this denuncia- 
singuiar tion, if directed solely against the persons imme- 
Fiorentine diately concerned in the transactions to which the 
synod. p 0 p e referred, it appears, that in extending his 
censures to the dignitaries of the church, who were not 
personally implicated in the imputed guilt, Sixtus had 
/ exceeded his authority; and the exasperated ecclesiastics, 
availing themselves of his imprudence, retorted upon the 
pope the anathemas which he had poured out against them. 
The most eminent civilians of the time were consulted on 
this occasion, many of whom asserted the nullity of the 
^prohibition. By the exertions of Gentile d’Urbino, bishop 
of Arezzo, a convocation was summoned in the church of 
the Reparata, and Fabroni has produced, from the archives 
of Florence, a document yet remaining in the hand-writing 
of Gentile, which purports to be the result of the delibera¬ 
tions which there took place. 48 The professed tendency of 
this piece is to criminate the pope, as being the chief insti¬ 
gator of the enormities committed at Florence, and to 
exculpate Lorenzo de’ Medici and the Florentines from the 
charges which Sixtus had brought against them; but this 
vindication would have lost nothing of its effect, if, in exposing 
the guilt of the pontiff, it had consulted the dignity of those 
he had injured, and exhibited a more temperate and dis¬ 
passionate refutation. How so unmodified and daring an 
attack can be reconciled to the catholic idea of the infalli¬ 
bility of the holy see, it is not easy to discover. If it be 


47 Although this piece he of considerable length, I have thought proper to give it 
a place in the Appendix. First, because Sixtus, labouring under such imputations, 
ought to be allowed to relate his own story. Secondly, because this document will 
throw farther light on many of the facts before adverted to; and lastly, because it is 
one of the most extraordinary specimens of priestly arrogance that ever insulted the 
common sense of mankind, v. App. No. XVII. 

48 Fabroni conjectures that this convocation was not held, hut for this opinion he 
adduces no reasons; and other historians have related it as a well-known circum¬ 
stance. Some doubt may perhaps remain whether the document, purporting to be the 
act of the synod, was in fact adopted there, or whether it was merely proposed for the 
approbation of the assembly ; though the presumption is in favour of the former opi¬ 
nion. For producing a document addressed in such contumelious terms to the head 
of the church, Fabroni thinks it necessary to apologize. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


135 


1478.] 

acknowledged that the bull of Sixtus had exceeded all the 
limits of decorum, it must also be allowed that the reply of 
the synod is in this respect equally censurable; nor is it in 
the power of language to convey a more copious torrent 
of abuse, than was poured out upon this occasion by the 
Florentine clergy, on the supreme director of the Roman 
church. 

Sixtus did not however relax from his purpose. Whilst 
he brandished in one hand the spiritual weapon, S ixt us at. 
which has impressed with terror the proudest sove- 
/ reigns of Europe, in the other he grasped a tern- the Floren - 
poral sword, which he now openly, as he had before liver up Lo- 
secretly, aimed at the life of Lorenzo. At his renzo ‘ 
instigation the king of Naples despatched an envoy to Flo¬ 
rence, to prevail upon the citizens to deliver up Lorenzo 
into the hands of his enemies, or at least to banish him from 
the Tuscan territories. The alternative denounced to them 
was the immediate vengeance of both the king and the 
pope. These threats had not however the intended effect, 
but on the contrary produced another instance of the at¬ 
tachment of the Florentines to Lorenzo. They not only 
refused to comply with the proposition of the king, but 
avowed their firm resolution to suffer every extremity, rather 
than betray a man with whose safety and dignity those of 
the republic were so nearly connected. They also directed 
their chancellor Bartolomeo Scala to draw up an historical 
memorial of all the proceedings of the conspiracy; 48 by which 
it clearly appeared, that throughout the whole transaction, 
the conspirators had acted with the privity and assent of 
the pope. 49 

49 v. App. No. XVIII. Several eminent scholars also testified their readiness to 
transmit to posterity the memory of this transaction. Even Filelfo, the ancient adver¬ 
sary of the family, offered his pen to Lorenzo on this occasion, v. App. No. XIX. 

50 As to the atrocity of the crime, and the turpitude of the authors of it, contempo¬ 
rary historians are agreed. It is only in our own days that an attempt has been made 
to transfer the guilt from its perpetrators, to those who suffered by it. The Conspi¬ 
racy of the Pazzi has afforded a subject for a tragedy to a celebrated living author, 
who, in his various dramatic works, has endeavoured, not without success, to accus¬ 
tom his countrymen to bolder sentiment, and to remove the idea that the genius of 
the Italian language is not adapted to the purposes of tragedy. It must however he 
confessed, that in attempting to render this transaction subservient to the interests of 
freedom, by his “ Congiura de’ Pazzi,” he has fallen greatly short of that effect which 
several of his other pieces produce. The causes of this failure are not difficult to dis- 


136 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

Lorenzo was now fully apprized of the danger of his 
situation. It was sufficiently evident that this powerful 
league was not formed against the Florentines, but against 
„ , himself; and that the evils of war might be avoided 

his situation, by a compliance with the requisition ot the king. 
a.d. 1479. pj nc L er these circumstances, instead of sheltering 
himself in the affections of his fellow-citizens, he boldly 
opposed himself to the danger that threatened him, and 
resolved either to fall with dignity, or to render his own 
cause that of the republic at large. He therefore called 
together about three hundred of the principal citizens, whom 
he addressed in a striking and energetic harangue, at the 
close of which he earnestly besought them, that as the 
public tranquillity could not be preserved by other means, 
nor a treaty effected with their enemies, unless it was 
sealed with his blood, they would no longer hesitate to 
comply with the terms proposed, nor suffer their attention 
to the safety of an individual to bring destruction upon 
the state. When Lorenzo had concluded, Giacopo de’ 
Alessandri, with the concurrence of every person pre¬ 
sent, declared it to be the unanimous resolution of the 

cover. In selecting a subject for tragedy, the author may either derive his materials 
from his own fancy, or he may choose some known historical transaction. The first 
of these is the creature of the poet, the second he can only avail himself of so far as 
acknowledged historical facts allow. In the one, the imagination is predominant; in 
the other, it is subservient to the illustration of truths previously understood, and ge¬ 
nerally admitted. What then shall we think of a dramatic performance in which the 
Pazzi are the champions of liberty ? in which superstition is called in to the aid of 
truth, and Sixtus consecrates the holy weapons devoted to the slaughter of the two 
brothers ? in which the relations of all the parties are confounded, and a tragic effect 
is attempted to be produced by a total dereliction of historical veracity, an assumption 
of falsehood for truth, of vice for virtue ? In this tragedy Guglielmo de’ Pazzi, (there 
called Raimondi) who married Bianca the sister of Lorenzo, is the chief of the con¬ 
spirators, and, failing in his attempt, executes vengeance on himself; but Machiavelli 
expressly informs us, that “ Gulielmo de’ Pazzi, di Lorenzo cognato, nelle case di 
quello, e per 1’ innocenza sua, e per Y aiuta di Bianca sua moglie, si salvo,” (Hist. lib. 
8 ;) whereas Francesco, the leader of the assassins, and who was not related to the 
Medici, died by a halter. If we are surprised at so extraordinary a perversion of in¬ 
cident and character, we are not less so in perusing the remarks with which the 
author has accompanied his tragedy, in which he avows an opinion, that Lorenzo 
would be too insignificant even to be the object of a conspiracy, if he had not lent him 
a fictitious importance ! It is to be hoped that the better information, or the riper 
judgment of this feeling author, will induce him to form a more just estimation of the 
character of a man, whose name is the chief honour of his country ; and to adopt the 
converse of the assertion with which he concludes his remarks on this tragedy, “ che 
per nessuna cosa del mondo non vorrebbe 1' aver fatta.” Trag. del Conte Vittorio 
Alfieri, vol. iv. Paris, ap. Didot, 1788. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


1479.] 


137 


whole assembly to defend his life at the hazard of then- 
own . 50 

All was now prepared for war, the approaching horrors 
of which were increased by the appearance of the plague at 
Florence. In this emergency Lorenzo thought it advisable 
to send his wife and children to Pistoia. “ I now remove 
from you,” said he to the citizens, “these objects of my 
affection, whom I would, if necessary, willingly devote for 
your welfare; that whatever may be the result of this con¬ 
test, the resentment of my enemies may be appeased with 
my blood only.” 

Though the duke of Calabria and the count of Urbino 
were esteemed the most formidable commanders of conduct of 
Italy, the Florentines could boast of men of great the war - 
eminence and experience in the military art; but the su¬ 
preme command was intrusted to Ercole d’Este, duke of 
Ferrara. The enemy were now approaching towards Flo¬ 
rence, and marked their way with devastation. After pos¬ 
sessing themselves of several smaller places, they at length 
besieged Arezzo, but on the approach of the Florentine 
troops they prepared for an engagement. Notwithstanding 
the inferiority of the latter in the reputation of their gene¬ 
rals, and in the number of their soldiers, they possessed 
such advantages as it was supposed would, in case of a 
general engagement, have ensured their success. The citi¬ 
zens of Arezzo by a vigorous defence had damped the 
spirit of the papal and Neapolitan troops, who expe¬ 
rienced also a scarcity of provisions, and were very disad- 
vantageously posted; but after the two armies had regarded 
each other for some time with mutual apprehensions, a 
truce was proposed by the duke of Urbino, which was 
acceded to by the duke of Ferrara, to the great dissatisfac¬ 
tion of the Florentines, who conceived that their general 
had betrayed their cause. The two armies retired into 
their winter quarters; and the Florentines found them¬ 
selves incumbered with great and increasing expense, with¬ 
out being relieved from their fears . 52 

51 Mac. Hist. lib. 8. Arnra. vol. iii. p. 123. Fabr. in vita, vol. i. p. 87. 

52 Mac. Hist. lib. 8. 


138 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 


0 


0 


This season, however, afforded Lorenzo another oppor- 
Lorenzo ne- tunity of trying the result of further negotiation; 
gotiates for but whilst he endeavoured on the one hand to re¬ 
concile himself to the pope, on the other hand, he 
made preparation to meet his enemies, in case his nego¬ 
tiation should prove unsuccessful. From the connection 
between his family and that of Sforza, he had promised 
himself powerful support from Milan; but the disagree¬ 
ment between the duchess and Lodovico Sforza, which ter¬ 
minated in the latter assuming the regency during the 
minority of the young duke, in a great degree disappointed 
his hopes. The Venetians had sent Bernardo Bembo, the 
father of the celebrated Pietro Bembo, 63 as their ambassa¬ 
dor to Florence, and professed themselves inimical to the 
proceedings of the pope and the king. They did not, how¬ 
ever, yet think proper to engage in the war; but with that 
species of policy by which they were always distinguished, 
looked on, for the purpose of taking advantage of any 
opportunity of aggrandizing themselves at the expense of 
their neighbours. In the course of the winter, different 
envoys arrived at Florence from the emperor and the kings 
of France and Hungary, who repeated to Lorenzo their 
assurances of attachment and support, at the same time 
advising him once more to attempt a reconciliation with 
the pope, under the sanction of their names and influence. 
A deputation, consisting of several of the most respectable 
citizens of Florence, was accordingly sent to Rome; but 
Sixtus still remained inflexible, and paid no more regard to 
the recommendations of the European sovereigns, than he 
had before done to the entreaties and remonstrances of 
Lorenzo himself. 

In order to testify to the king of France the sense which 

Death of 1% entertained of his interposition, the Floren- 
ac- tines despatched Donato Acciajuoli as their am- 
ciajU01 ' bassador to Paris. Shortly after his departure 


63 On this occasion Bernardo was accompanied by his son, then only nine years of 
age. He remained there about two years; and to this circumstance his historian, 
Casa, attributes the proficiency he made in the Italian tongue, of which he was des¬ 
tined to be one of the brightest ornaments. Joli. Casa in vita P. Bembi. in Op. Cas. 
vol. iv. p. 46. Ed. Ven. 1728. 


1479.1 


LORENZO DE ? MEDICI. 


139 


intelligence was received at Florence of his death, which 
happened at Milan as he was pursuing his journey. This 
circumstance was a subject of the sincerest grief to the 
Florentines, who well knew how to appreciate the virtues 
of their fellow-citizens, and omitted no opportunity of 
inciting the patriotism of the living, by the honours they 
bestowed on the memory of the dead. A sumptuous 
funeral was decreed to his remains; Lorenzo de’ Medici 
and three other eminent citizens were appointed curators 
of his children, who were declared to be exempt from the 
payment of taxes; and the daughters had considerable 
portions assigned them from the public treasury . 54 

Besides the duke of Ferrara, the Florentines had, during 
the course of the winter, prevailed upon several 

_ . , L ■*- .. Various suc- 

other experienced commanders, amongst whom c ess of the 
were Roberto Malatesta, Constantino Sforza, and 
Rodolfo Gonzaga, to espouse their cause. The states of 
Venice also at length sent a reinforcement under the com¬ 
mand of Carlo Montone and Deifebo d’Anguillari: by 
these powerful succours the Florentines found themselves 
enabled to take the field in the ensuing spring with great 
expectations of success. Emboldened by this support they ^3 
determined to carry on a war not merely defensive. Their 
troops were divided into two bodies, one of which was 
destined to make an irruption into the territories of the 
pope, and the other to oppose the duke of Calabria. At 
the approach of Montone, who intended to attack Perugia, 
the troops of the pope made a precipitate retreat; but the 
unexpected death of that commander relieved them in some 
degree from their fears, and they at length ventured to 
oppose the further progress of the Florentines. The two 
armies met near the lake of Perugia, the ancient Thrasy- 
menus, rendered remarkable by the defeat which the 
Romans experienced there from the arms of Hannibal. 
Struck with the similarity of their situation, a sentiment of 
terror pervaded the papal troops, who were soon repulsed, 
and obliged to quit the field with considerable loss, whilst 
the successful army proceeded to invest Perugia. The other 

54 Amm. 1st. vol. iii. p. 126. 


140 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

division of the Florentine troops was not equally successful. 55 
The mercenary views of the different commanders, who 
preferred plunder to victory, defeated the hopes which the 
Florentines had justly formed of their success. A disagree¬ 
ment took place among the leaders; in consequence of 
which the duke of Ferrara, with his own immediate fol¬ 
lowers, retired from the service of the republic. Availing 
himself of this opportunity, the duke of Calabria made an 
instantaneous attack upon the Florentines, who, having 
lost all confidence in their commanders, pusillanimously 
deserted their standards, and consulted their safety by a 
shameful flight. The consternation occasioned at Florence 
by this disaster is scarcely to be described, as it was sup¬ 
posed that the duke of Calabria would immediately proceed 
to the attack of the city; and this distress was heightened 
by the ravages of the plague, and by impending famine. 
Happily, however, the apprehensions of the Florentines on 
this occasion were not wholly realized. Instead of pro¬ 
ceeding towards Florence, the duke rather chose to employ 
himself in plundering the surrounding country. The cap¬ 
ture of the town of Colle, which made an obstinate resist¬ 
ance, and of some adjacent places of less importance, en¬ 
gaged his attention till the detachment that had been sent 
to the attack of Perugia having suddenly raised the siege, 
returned towards Florence, and alleviated the fears of the 
citizens. An unexpected proposition made by the duke of 
Calabria for a truce of three months, was cheerfully assented 
to by the Florentines, who thus once more obtained a tem¬ 
porary relief from a state of anxiety and a profusion of 
expense, which were become equally insupportable. 56 

But although by this cessation of hostilities the tranquil- 
Lorenzo re- lity of the city was for a time restored, the situation 
eft The 1 king of Lorenzo de’ Medici was in the highest degree 
of Naples, critical and alarming. He had witnessed the 
terrors of the populace on the approach of the Neapolitan 
army; and although he had great confidence in the affec¬ 
tion of the citizens, yet as the war was avowedly waged 

55 v. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 121. 

56 Mac. Hist. lib. 8. Amm. vol. iii. p. 142. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


141 


1479 .] 

against liim as an individual, and might at any time be 
concluded by delivering him up to his enemies, he knew 
enough of human nature to be convinced that he had just 
grounds to dread the event. The rising discontents and 
murmurs of the people increased his suspicion; even the 
truce was unfavourable t(5 him, as it gave the Florentines 
an opportunity of estimating the injuries they had sustained 
by the war, which, like wounds received by an individual in 
the ardour of action, were not fully felt till the heat of the 
contest had subsided. 57 Complaints began to be heard that 
the public treasure was exhausted, and the commerce of the 
city ruined, whilst the citizens were burdened with op¬ 
pressive taxes. Insinuations of a more personal nature 
were not always suppressed; and Lorenzo had the mortifi¬ 
cation of being told, that sufficient blood had been already 
shed, and that it would be expedient for him rather to 
devise some means of effecting a peace, than of making 
further preparations for the war. 58 Under these circum¬ 
stances, he resolved to adopt some measure which should 
effectually close the contest, although with the hazard of his 
life. In deliberating on the mode of accomplishing his 
purpose, his genius suggested to him one of those bold 
expedients, which only great minds can conceive and exe¬ 
cute. This was, secretly to quit the city of Florence, to 
proceed immediately to Naples, and to place himself in the 
hands of Ferdinand, his avowed enemy; with the deter¬ 
mination either to convince him of the injustice and im¬ 
policy of his conduct, and thereby induce him to agree to 
a separate peace, or to devote himself to the preservation 
of his country. 

In the commencement of the month of December, 1479, 
Lorenzo accordingly left the city, without having His letter 
communicated his intentions to his fellow-citizens, [rates' oTfio- 
and proceeded to San Miniato, a town in the reilce - 
Florentine state, whence he addressed a letter to the magis¬ 
trates of Florence, which places the motives of his conduct 
in a very clear point of view. 59 

57 Mac. Hist. lib. 8. 58 Fabr. in vita Laur. vol. i. p. 100. 

59 It is somewhat surprising that this letter, so explicitly stating the purpose of 
Lorenzo, should have escaped the attention of Fabroni; who has, however, favoured us 


142 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 


“ Lorenzo de Medici to the States of Florence . 

“ If I did not explain to you, before I left Florence, the 
cause of my departure, it was not from want of respect, 
but because I thought, that in the dangerous circumstances 
in which our city is placed, it was more necessary to act 
than to deliberate. It seems to me that peace is become 
indispensable to us ; and as all other means of obtaining it 
have proved ineffectual, I have rather chosen to incur some 
degree of danger myself, than to suffer the city to continue 
longer under its present difficulties : I therefore mean, with 
your permission, to proceed directly to Naples; conceiving, 
that as I am the person chiefly aimed at by our enemies, I 
may, by delivering myself into their hands, perhaps be the 
means of restoring peace to my fellow-citizens. Of these 
two things, one must be taken for granted; either the king 
of Naples, as he has often asserted, and as some have be¬ 
lieved, is friendly to the Florentine state, and aims, even by 
these hostile proceedings, rather to render us a service, than 
to deprive us of our liberties; or he wishes to effect the 
ruin of the republic. If he be favourably disposed towards 
us, there is no better method of putting his intention to the 
test, than by placing myself freely in his hands, and this I 
will venture tp say is the only mode of obtaining an honour¬ 
able peace, (jff, on the other hand, the views of the king 
extend to the subversion of our liberties^ we shall at least be 
speedily apprized of his intentions ;(and this knowledge will 
be more cheaply obtained by the ruin of one, than of affi 
I am contented to take upon myself this risk, because, as I 
am the person principally sought after, I shall be a better 
test of the king’s intentions; it being possible that my 
destruction is all that is aimed at: and again, as I have had 
more honour and consideration amongst you than my merits 
could claim, and perhaps more than have in our days been 

with the oration of Lorenzo to Ferdinand, on his arrival at Naples, the authenticity 
of which may perhaps be doubted; as well as that of Lorenzo to the magistrates of 
Florence before his departure for Naples, attributed to him by Ammirato, (1st. vol. iii. 
p. 143.) The efforts of imagination should not be substituted for the documents of 
history. This letter is published in the “ Lettere di Principi,” vol. i. p. 3. Ed. Ven. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


143 


1479.J 

bestowed on any private citizen, I conceive myself more par¬ 
ticularly bound than any other person to promote the in¬ 
terest of my country, even with the sacrifice of my life. 
With this full intention I now go; and perhaps it may be 
the will of God, that as this war was begun in the blood of 
my brother, and of myself, it may now by my means be 
concluded^ All that I desire is, that my life and my death, 
my prosperity and my misfortunes, may contribute towards 
the welfare of my native place. Should the result be 
answerable to my wishes, I shall rejoice in having obtained 
peace to my country, and security to myself. Should it 
prove otherwise, my misfortunes will be alleviated by the 
idea that they were requisite for my country’s welfare; for 
if our adversaries aim only at my destruction, I shall be in 
their power; and if their views extend further, they will 
then be fully understood. In the latter case, I doubt not 
that all my fellow-citizens will unite in defending their 
liberties to the last extremity, and I trust with the same 
success as, by the favour of God, our ancestors have hereto¬ 
fore done. These are the sentiments with which I shall 
proceed; entreating Heaven that I may be enabled on this 
occasion to perform what every citizen ought at all times 
to be ready to perform for his country. From San Miniato , 
the 1th December ., 1479 ” 60 

The departure of Lorenzo upon so novel and so dan¬ 
gerous an expedition, occasioned various opinions and con¬ 
jectures at Florence. Those who were friendly to the Medici, 
or who were interested in the personal welfare of Lorenzo, 
could not regard this measure without great anxiety. Even 
those who entertained the highest opinion of his prudence 
were inclined to consider his conduct in this instance as rash 
and inconsiderate, and as having resulted rather from the 
impulse of the moment, than from that mature deliberation 
which generally preceded his determinations. 61 They re¬ 
membered the fate of Giacopo Piccinini, who with more 
claims on the favour of Ferdinand than Lorenzo could pre- 

60 Valori informs us, that when the letter of Lorenzo was recited in the senate, not 
one of the assembly could refrain from tears. Val. in vita Laur. p. 33. 

61 Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 533. 


144 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

tend to, had, on a visit to him at Naples, in violation of all 
the laws of honour and hospitality, been thrown into a 
dungeon, and soon afterwards secretly murdered . 62 Those 
who entertained better hopes, founded them on a conjecture 
that Lorenzo had previously obtained an assurance from 
Ferdinand of a welcome reception, and a safe return ; which 
assurance was supposed to be sanctioned by the other states 
of Italy. In proportion as his friends were alarmed at the 
dangers that threatened him, those who feared, or who 
envied the authority which he had obtained in Florence, 
rejoiced in the probability of his destruction; and by affect¬ 
ing on all occasions to express their apprehensions of his 
ruin, and of a consequent change of government in Flo¬ 
rence, endeavoured as far as in their power to prepare the 
way for those events . 63 

From San Miniato, Lorenzo went to Pisa, where he re- 
He embarks ceived from the magistrates of Florence their un- 
at Pisa. limited authority to enter into such conditions with 
the king as he might think advisable . 64 Thence he em¬ 
barked for Naples, and on his arrival there was surprised, 
but certainly not displeased, to find that the king had in- 
.... formation of his approach, and had directed the commanders 
' of his galleys to receive him with due honour. This token 
of respect was confirmed by the presence of the king’s son 
Federigo, and his grandson Ferdinand, who met Lorenzo 
on his landing, and conducted him to the presence of the 
king . 65 The Neapolitans testified their eagerness to see a 


62 Piccinini was one of the most eminent Condottieri of his time, and by his 
valour had acquired the absolute sovereignty of several towns in Italy, and raised 
himself to such consideration as to obtain in marriage Drusiana, one of the daughters 
of the great Francesco Sforza duke of Milan. Soon after his marriage he was in¬ 
vited by Ferdinand, who had some secret cause of enmity against him, to pass a short 
time at Naples, whither he went, accompanied by his new bride, and fell an easy victim 
to the treachery of Ferdinand; who, not being able to allege any plausible reason for 
this atrocious act, endeavoured to propagate a report that Piccinini had broken his 
neck by a fall from the window of the place of his confinement, v. Murat. Ann. vol. 
l'x. p.493. 

63 Mac. 1st. lib. 8. 

64 The instructions sent by the magistracy of Florence to Lorenzo on this occasion 
were drawn up by Bartolomeo Scala, the chancellor of the republic, who transmitted 
them to Lorenzo, accompanied by a private letter, strongly expressive of his anxiety 
for the success of his patron in this dangerous expedition, v. App. No. XX. 

65 Val. in vita Laur. p. 34. 


LORENZO De’ MEDICI. 


145 


1479.] 

man who had been the object of such contention, and whose r 
character and accomplishments were the subject of general 
admiration. On his interview with Ferdinand, Lorenzo 
omitted nothing that was likely to conciliate his esteem, and 
attach him to his cause. Fully acquainted with the politi¬ 
cal state of Italy, and with the temper and intentions of its 
different potentates, he demonstrated to Ferdinand the im¬ 
policy of separating the interests of the Neapolitans from 
those of the Florentines. He reminded him of the dangers 
which the kingdom of Naples had repeatedly experienced 
from the pretensions of the holy see, and thence adverted 
to the imprudence of contributing to the aggrandizement 
of the papal power. Nor was he silent on that flagrant 

breach of divine and human laws, which had deprived him,_ 

of a brother, and endangered his own life; from which he 
justly inferred, that the perpetrators of such a crime could 
be bound by no engagements but such as suited their own 
interest or ambition. To representations thus forcibly 
urged, it was impossible that the king could be inattentive ,— 
and although he did not immediately comply with the 
wishes of Lorenzo, yet he gave him hopes of eventual suc¬ 
cess, and treated him with every distinction due to his cha¬ 
racter, expressing his approbation of him in the words of 
Claudian, vicit prcesentia famam. 66 

During the abode of Lorenzo at Naples, which was pro¬ 
tracted by the cautious hesitation of the king, he Lorenzo con- 
rendered his liberality, his taste, and his urbanity, 
subservient to the promotion of his political views, kin e- 
and was careful that the expectations formed of him by the—- 
populace should not be disappointed. His wealth and his 
munificence seemed to be equally boundless, and were dis¬ 
played, amongst other instances, in apportioning out in 
marriage young women of the lower rank, who resorted to 
Naples from the remotest parts of Calabria and Appulia to 
share his bounty. 67 The pleasures which he experienced 
from thus gratifying his natural disposition, were however 
counterbalanced by the anxiety of his solitary moments, 


66 Val. in vita Laur. p. 34. 


6 ’ Ibid. p. 35. 

10 


146 


THE LIFE OF 


: [CH. IV. 

when the difficulties which he had to encounter pressed upon 
his mind with a weight almost irresistible. The disposition 
of Ferdinand was severe and unrelenting; from an appeal 
to his feelings little was to be expected ; his determination 
could only be influenced by motives of policy or of interest. 
The conquests of his son Alfonso had rendered him less 
favourable to the views of Lorenzo ; and it was particularly 
unfortunate, that whilst the negociation was depending, 
Alfonso broke the stipulated truce, and gained advantages 
over the Florentine troops. The pope had also received in¬ 
telligence of the arrival of Lorenzo at Naples, and exerted 
all his interest wifh Ferdinand to prevail upon him either 
to detain Lorenzo there, or to send him to Rome, on pre¬ 
tence of accommodating his difference with the holy see, 
and effecting a general peace. Notwithstanding these un¬ 
favourable circumstances, Lorenzo did not relax in the pur¬ 
suit of his object, nor betray in public the least appearance 
of dejection. He had already obtained the confidence of 
Caraffa, count of Metalonica, the minister of Ferdinand, 
and made daily progress in the affections of the king him¬ 
self, who was at length induced seriously to weigh his pro¬ 
positions, and to consider the advantages that might result 
to himself and his family, by attaching to his interests a 
man of such talents and influence, now in the prime of life, 
and daily rising in the public estimation. Led by these 
considerations, and by the unwearied assiduities of Lorenzo, 
he at length gave way to his solicitations ; and having once 
adopted a decided opinion, became as warmly devoted to 
Lorenzo, as he before had been inimical to him. The con¬ 
ditions of the treaty were accordingly agreed on ; 68 and Lo¬ 
renzo, who had arrived at Naples not merely an unpro¬ 
tected stranger, but an open enemy, left that place at 
the end of three months, in the character of an ally and a 
friend. 69 

68 These conditions were, that the parties should mutually assist each other in the 
defence of their dominions. That the places which had been taken from the Floren¬ 
tines should be restored at the discretion of the king. That the survivors of the 
Pazzi family should be liberated from the tower of Volterra; and that the duke of 
Calabria should receive a certain sum of money to defray the expenses of his return. 
Amm. 1st. vol. iii. p. 145. 

69 v. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 122. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


147 


1480.] 

Having thus accomplished his purpose, he instantly em¬ 
barked for Pisa, notwithstanding the entreaties of Ferdi¬ 
nand, who wished to prolong his stay. His apo¬ 
logy to the king for tins apparent want of respect, 
was the desire that he had to communicate to his fellow- 
citizens, as speedily as possible, the happy resist of his 
expedition; but the excuses of Lorenzo were urged with a 
levity and jocularity which he judged most hkely to conceal 
his real motives, and to prevent the suspicions of Ferdinand. 
Shortly before his departure the king presented to him a 
beautiful horse, and Lorenzo returned his thanks by observ¬ 
ing, That the messenger of joyful news ought to he well 
mounted. He had, however, more urgent reasons for his 
haste: every moment that delayed his return gave encou¬ 
ragement to his enemies, and endangered his authority at 
Florence; but above ah, he was apprehensive that the re¬ 
peated remonstrances of the pope might induce the king to 
waver in his resolution, or to change his opinion. The 
event proved that his distrust was not unfounded; Lorenzo 
had no sooner sailed from Naples, than a messenger arrived 
there from Rome, with such propositions to the king, on 
the part of the pope, as would in all probability not only 
have defeated the treaty, but have led the way to the ruin 
of Lorenzo de Medici. Such was the effect which this 
communication had on the mind of the king, that he des¬ 
patched a letter to Lorenzo, entreating him, in the most 
pressing language, that at whatever place he might receive 
it, he would immediately return to Naples, where the am¬ 
bassador of Sixtus was ready to accede to the articles of 
pacification. Having once escaped from the jaws of the 
lion, Lorenzo did not think proper a second time to confide 
in his clemency; and his determination was probably con¬ 
firmed by the tenor of the letter from Ferdinand, which 
discovers such an extreme degree of anxiety for the accom¬ 
plishment of his purpose, as seems scarcely consistent with 
an open and generous intention. 70 

After touching at Leghorn, Lorenzo returned to Pisa, 
where the event of his embassy being known, he was 

7° V. App. No. XXI. 


148 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IV. 

received with the utmost demonstrations of joy. Thence he 
hastened to Florence, where the exultation of the populace 
was unbounded. Secured from the storm that had so long 
threatened to burst upon their heads, and restored to tran¬ 
quillity by the magnanimity of a single citizen, they set no 
limits to their applause. All ranks of people surrounded 
and congratulated Lorenzo on his return. His faithful as¬ 
sociate Politiano, having struggled in vain to approach his 
patron, expressed his affection in a few extempore stanzas, 
in which is given a lively picture of this interesting scene; 
where Lorenzo is represented as towering above his fellow- 
citizens, by his superior stature, and expressing his sense of 
their kindness by all the means in his power, by his smiles, 
his nods, his voice, and his hands. 

The reconciliation which had thus been effected between the 
Sixtus perse- king of Naples and the republic of Florence was a 
veres in war. cause 0 f vexation not only to the pope, but to the 
Venetians, who expressed great dissatisfaction that a measure 
of such importance should have been adopted without their 
previous concurrence. In order to excuse to the pope the 
step which he had taken, Ferdinand alleged his apprehensions 
from the Turks, who had long threatened a descent upon Italy. 
Sixtus did not, however, relinquish the prosecution of his fa¬ 
vourite object, the destruction of Lorenzo de’ Medici, in which 
he was constantly incited to persevere, by his nephew Giro¬ 
lamo Riario, whose hatred to Lorenzo was unalterable. To 
no purpose did the Florentines despatch a new embassy to 
Rome to deprecate the wrath and entreat the clemency of the 
pope. Riario began to make preparations for renewing the 
war; and at his instance the duke of Calabria, instead of with¬ 
drawing his troops from Tuscany, remained at Sienna, where 
he continued to exercise great authority, and to fill with 
apprehensions the surrounding country. But while the 
affairs of Florence remained in this state of suspense, a more 
general alarm took place, and speedily accomplished what 
the intercessions and humiliation of the Florentines might 
have failed of effecting. Mahomet II. the conqueror of 
Constantinople, was yet living, and meditated further vic¬ 
tories. It turning his arms westward, he first attacked the 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


149 


1480.J 

island of Rhodes; but being delayed and irritated by 
a vigorous defence, he determined to retrieve his mili¬ 
tary credit by making a descent upon Italy, where he 
captured the important city of Otranto, and threatened 
the whole extent of that country with devastation* and 
slavery. 

This alarming incident roused the adjacent states of Italy to 
j their defence. So opportunely did it occur for the Descent of 
safety of Lorenzo, that it has given rise to an opi- the Turks 
nion that he incited and encouraged it . 71 But if uponItaly ‘ 
Mahomet had in fact any invitation upon this occasion, it 
was most probably from the Venetians, who were strongly 
suspected of having favoured his purpose; and this suspicion 
was afterwards strengthened by the reluctance which they 
shewed to unite with the other states of Italy in expelling 
the Turks from Otranto . 72 Compelled to attend to the 
defence of his own country, the duke of Calabria suddenly 
withdrew his troops from Sienna; and the pope of his own 
motion gave the Florentines to understand, that, on a proper 
n submission, he should now listen to terms of re- p 
conciliation. Twelve of the most respectable citi- eluded with 
zens were sent to Rome, as a deputation in the e pope ‘ 
name of the republic; but although the pope expressed his 
desire that Lorenzo should be of the number, he wisely 
judged that such a measure would neither be consistent 
with his honour nor his safety. Francesco Soderini, bishop 
of Volterra, made the oration to the pope; who, in his reply, 
once more gave way to his anger, and, in very severe lan¬ 
guage, reproached the Florentines with their disobedience to 
the holy see. Having vented his rage, he received their 


71 Albinus, p. 35, de bello Etrusco. Camillus Portius, la Congiura de’ Baroni di 
Napoli contro il Re Ferdinando I. et Jannoinus ap. Fabronium, vol. ii. p. 216. v. also 
Swinburne’s Travels in the Two Sicilies, p. 377. 

72 Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 535. That Ferdinand did not suppose Lorenzo had any 
share in instigating Mahomet to this enterprise, is evident from his subsequent letters 
to him, several of which yet remain. Fabroni has also preserved a letter from Lo¬ 
renzo de’ Medici to Albino, who attended the duke of Calabria on his expedition to 
Otranto, in which he expresses his strong aversion to the Cani Turchi, as he denomi¬ 
nates the invaders, and his extreme and perhaps courtly solicitude for the success and 
personal safety of the duke. 


150 


LIFE OF LORENZO DE* MEDICI. [CH. IV. 

submission; and in milder terms reconciled them to the 
church; at the same time touching their backs with a wand, 
according to the usual ceremony, and releasing the city from 
his interdict. 

















Medal of Liugi Pnlei. 

CHAPTER V. 


1480—1481. 

Studies of Lorenzo de' Medici—Rise of Italian literature in the fourteenth cen¬ 
tury—Its subsequent degradation—Revivers of it in the fifteenth century — 
Burchiello—The three brothers of the Pulci—Writings of Bernardo Pulci—Of 
Luca Pulci—Of Luigi Pulci—Of Matteo Franco—Early productions of Lorenzo — 
Inquiry into his merits as a poet—Object and characteristics of poetry — Descrip¬ 
tion—Talents of Lorenzo for description—Poetic comparison—Instances of it from 
the writings of Lorenzo—Personification of material objects—Of the passions and 
affections—Comparative excellence of the ancients and moderns in the prosopopeia 
—Instances of this figure in the writings of Lorenzo — Various species of poetry 
cultivated by him—Origin of the Italian sonnet—Character of the sonnets of 
Dante — Of Petrarca — Of Lorenzo de’ Medici — Selve d’ amore of Lorenzo — 
His poem of Ambra —On hawking—Moral pieces—Sacred poems—The Beoni— 
Rise of the jocose Italian satire — Stanze contadinesche —State of the Italian 
Drama—The Musical Drama — Canti Carnascialeschi — Canzone a ballo — 
Critique of Pico of Mirandula on the poems of Lorenzo—Opinions of other authors 
on the same subject—The poems of Lorenzo celebrated in the Nutricia of Politiano. 



The establishment of peace was a blessing which Lorenzo 
felt in common with the rest of his fellow-citizens; Studies of 
but to him it was peculiarly grateful, as it left him at Lorenzo de* 
hberty to attend to the prosecution of those studies 
in which he had always found his most unembittered plea¬ 
sures, and the surest alleviation of his cares. “ When my 
mind is disturbed with the tumults of public business/’ says 
he, writing to Ficino, “ and my ears are stunned with the 
clamours of turbulent citizens, how would it be possible for 
me to support such contention unless I found a relaxation in 
science?” Nor was it to any particular study, in exclusion to 
others, that he addicted himself during his hours of leisure, 
although poetry had in his younger years a decided preference. 
“ So vigorous and yet so various was his genius,” says Pico 
of Mirandula, “ that he seemed equally formed for every pur- 


152 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

suit; but that which principally excites my wonder is, that 
even when he is deeply engaged in the affairs of the re¬ 
public, his conversation and his thoughts should be turned 
to subjects of literature, as if he were perfect master of his 
time.” 1 2 Lorenzo was not, however, insensible, that amidst 
his serious and important avocations, the indulgence of a 
poetical taste might be considered as indicating a levity of 
disposition inconsistent with his character. “ There are 
some,” says he, 3 “ who may perhaps accuse me of having 
dissipated my time in writing and commenting upon amo¬ 
rous subjects, particularly in the midst of my numerous and 
unavoidable occupations: to this accusation I have to reply, 
that I might indeed be justly condemned if nature had 
endowed mankind with the power of performing, at all 
times, those things which are most truly commendable; but 
inasmuch as this power has been conceded only to few, and 
to those few the opportunity of exercising it cannot often 
occur in the course of life, it seems to me, that considering 
our imperfect nature, those occupations may be esteemed 
the best in which there is the least to reprove.—If the rea¬ 
sons I have before given,” he afterwards adds, “ be thought 
insufficient for my exculpation, I have only to confide in 
the kindness of my readers. Persecuted as I have been 
from my youth, some indulgence may perhaps be allowed 
me for having sought consolation in these pursuits.” In 
the sequel of his commentary he has thought it necessary 
to touch more fully on the peculiarity of his situation. “ It 
was my intention,” says he, “ in my exposition of this 
sonnet, to have related the persecutions which I have un¬ 
dergone; but an apprehension that I may be thought arro¬ 
gant and ostentatious, induces me to pass slightly over 
them. In relating our own transactions it is not indeed 
easy to avoid these imputations. When the navigator 
informs us of the perils which his ship has escaped, he 
means rather to give us an idea of his own exertions and 
prudence, than of the obligations which he owes to his 

1 In Proem, ad tract, de ente et uno, ad Angelum Politianum, in op. Pici. Ed. 
Ven. 1498. 

2 Commento di Lorenzo sopra alcuni de’ suoi sonetti, ed. Aldo. 1554. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


153 


1480.] 

good fortune, and perhaps enhances the danger beyond the 
fact, in order to increase our admiration. In the same 
manner physicians frequently represent the state of their 
patient as more dangerous than it is in reality, so that if 
he happen to die, the cause may be supposed to be in the 
disorder, and not in their want of skill; and if he recover, 
the greater is the merit of the cure. I shall therefore only 
say, that my sufferings have been very severe, the authors 
of them having been men of great authority and talents, 
and fully determined to accomplish, by every means in 
their power, my total ruin. Whilst I, on the other hand, 
having nothing to oppose to these formidable enemies, but 
youth and inexperience, saving indeed the assistance which 
I derived from divine goodness, was reduced to such an 
extreme of misfortune, that I had at the same time to 
labour under the excommunication of my soul, and the dis¬ 
persion of my property, to contend with endeavours to 
divest me of my authority in the state, and to introduce 
discord into my family, and with frequent attempts to 
deprive me of my life, insomuch that I should have thought 
death itself a much less evil than those with which I had to 
combat. In this unfortunate situation it is surely not to 
be wondered at, if I endeavoured to alleviate my anxiety 
by turning to more agreeable subjects of meditation, and 
in celebrating the charms of my mistress sought a tem¬ 
porary refuge from my cares.” 

In taking a retrospect of the state of letters in Italy, it is 
impossible not to be struck with the great supe- RiseofIta _ 
rioritv which that country possessed over the rest of lian litera - 
Europe. “ To the Commedia of Dante, the son- fourteenth 
nets of Petrarca, and the Decamerone of Boccaccio, century * 
three little books written for the purposes of satire, of gal¬ 
lantry, and of feminine amusement, we are to trace the 
origin of learning, and true taste in modem times.” 3 
Whether Dante was stimulated to his singular work by the 
success of his immediate predecessors, the Provencal poets, 
or by the example of the ancient Roman authors, has been 
doubted. The latter opinion seems, however, to be the 

3 Andres, dell’ origine, progressi, e stato attuale d’ ogni letteratura, vol. i. p. 339. 


154 


THE LIFE OF 


[ch. y. 

more probable. In his “ Inferno” he had apparently the 
descent of Hfrieas in view. “ Virgil is the guide of Dante 
through these regions of horror.” 4 In the rest of his poem 
there is little resemblance to any antecedent production. 
Compared with the iEneid, it is a piece of grand Gothic 
architecture at the side of a beautiful Roman temple. 
Dante was immediately succeeded by Boccaccio and by 
Petrarca, not as imitators, but as originals in the different 
branches to which their talents led them. Though they 
followed Dante, they did not employ themselves in culti¬ 
vating the ground,which he had broken up, but chose each 
for himself a new and an untried field, and reaped a harvest 
not less abundant. 

The merits of these writers have been frequently recog¬ 
nised and appreciated, but perhaps by no one with more 
accuracy than by Lorenzo himself. In attempting to shew 
the importance and dignity of the Italian tongue, he justly 
remarks, that the proofs of its excellence are to be sought 
for in the writings of the three authors before mentioned; 
“ who,” says he, “ have fully shewn with what facility this 
language may be adapted to the expression of every senti¬ 
ment.” He then proceeds as follows: 5 “ If we look into 
the Commedia of Dante, we shall find theological and 
natural subjects treated with the greatest ease and address. 
We shall there discover those three species of composition 
so highly commended in oratory, the simple, the middle 
style, and the sublime ; and shall find in perfection, in this 
single author, those excellences which are dispersed amongst 
the ancient Greek and Roman writers. Who can deny 
that the subject of love has been treated by Petrarca with 
more consistency and elegance than by Ovid, Catullus, 
Tibullus, Propertius, or any other of the Latin poets ? The 

4 Landino considered Dante as a close imitator of Virgil. (Land. Disput. Carnal, lib. 
4. Ed. 1508.) Even the form of his hell and his purgatory, the first of which resembled 
the cavity of an inverted cone, the other the exterior of an erect one, may perhaps be 
traced to the following passage: 

“-Turn Tartarus ipse 

Bis patet in praeceps tantum, tenditque sub umbras, 

Quantus ad aetherium cceli suspectus olympum.” 

/En. lib. vi. 

5 Com. di Lorenzo sopra alcuni de' suoi sonetti, ap. Aid. 1554. 



LORENZO DE ? MEDICI. 


155 


1480.] 

prose compositions of the learned and eloquent Boccaccio 
may be considered as unrivalled, not only on account of 
the invention which they display, but for the copiousness 
and elegance of the style. If on perusing the Decamerone 
we attend to the diversity of the subjects, sometimes serious 
or tragical, at others conversant with common life, and at 
others humorous or ridiculous; exhibiting all the perturba¬ 
tions incident to mankind, of affection and of aversion, of 
hope, and of fear; if we consider the great variety of the 
narrative, and the invention of circumstances which display 
all the peculiarities of our nature, and all the effects of our 
passions, we may undoubtedly be allowed to determine, 
that no language is better adapted to the purposes of ex¬ 
pression than our own.” 

But although the career of these first reformers of Italian 
literature was wonderfully rapid, the disciples they Its subse 
formed were few, and of those none maintained que«t .ie g ra- 
the reputation of their masters. Petrarca died in 
1374, and Boccaccio in the year following. The clouds 
that had been awhile dispersed by the lustre of their abili¬ 
ties, again collected, and involved the world in their gloom. 
A full century elapsed without producing any literary work 
that can be ranked with the compositions of those great 
men. 6 The attempt of Piero de’ Medici, in the year 1441, 
to create a spirit of poetical emulation in Plorence, while it 
serves as a proof of his munificence, sufficiently indicates 
the low degree of estimation in which this study was then 
held, and the insignificance of its professors. If philosophy 
in the fourteenth century went poor and naked, in the next 
she had changed her destiny with her sister poetry. 7 The 
state of prose composition was equally wretched. No longer 
the vehicle of elegant or learned sentiment, the Italian 
language was consigned over to the use of the vulgar, 
corrupted by neglect, and debased by the mixture of pro- 

6 The Bella Mano of Giusta da Conti, a Roman civilian by profession, but a poet by 
inclination, who wrote in the beginning of the fifteenth century, may perhaps be 
exempted from this general censure. It consists of a series of sonnets in praise of the 
author’s mistress, some of which may contend, in point of elegance, with those of 
Petrarca, on the model of which they are professedly written. 

7 Povera e nuda va filosofia. Petr. 


156 


THE LIFE OF 


[ch. V. 

vincial dialects. It was only on the most common occa¬ 
sions, or in the freedom of epistolary intercourse, that men 
of learning condescended to employ their native tongue; 
and even then it appears to have been considered as inade¬ 
quate to the purpose, and the assistance of the Latin lan¬ 
guage was often resorted to, and intermixed with it, in 
order to render it intelligible . 8 

The only symptoms of improvement which had appeared 
Revivers of in Italy, at the time that Lorenzo de’ Medici first 
it in the fif- began to distinguish himself by his writings, are 
tury. to be foand in the productions of Burchiello, or 
Burchieiio. « n 0 f ^he three brothers of the family of 

Pulci, to some of which we have before adverted. 
Burchiello, who flourished about the middle of the fifteenth 
century, and who exercised in Florence a profession, in 
which, as he informs us, 

The muses with the razor were at strife, 9 

has left a great number of sonnets, which exhibit no incon¬ 
siderable share of wit and vivacity, and occasionally display 
a felicity of expression, that might have done honour to 
better subjects than those which generally employed his 

8 Some authors, who have taken too general and indistinct a view of this subject, 
would induce us to believe, that a continual improvement in Italian literature took 
place from the time of Petrarca, till it arrived at its summit in the sixteenth century; 
and have had influence enough to establish this as a popular opinion; but to say 
nothing of the evidence of the best Italian critics, by whom this singular degra¬ 
dation of their language is fully attested, it is yet capable of being ascertained by 
an appeal to facts. If the rise of literature had been gradual during this period, 
some memorials of it must have remained; hut from the death of Petrarca to the 
time of Lorenzo de’ Medici, Italy did not produce a single specimen of this boasted 
improvement; whilst, on the other hand, innumerable instances remain, both in 
verse and prose, of the barbarous and degraded style then in use. Even the celebrity 
of Cosmo de’ Medici, the great patron of letters, never gave rise to a panegyric 
in his native tongue that has any pretensions to the approbation of the present 
time, although there yet remain among the manuscripts of the Laurentian library 
innumerable pieces in his praise. Voltaire indeed informs us, “ that there was 
an uninterrupted succession of Italian poets, who are all known to posterity; 
that Pulci wrote after Petrarca; that Bojardo succeeded Pulci; whilst in the fertility 
of his imagination, Ariosto surpassed them all.” (Essai sur les Moeurs, &c. vol. ii. 
p. 163.) Pulci, it is true, is the next author of popular estimation that followed 
Petrarca; hut the period between them is precisely the time in question. The Mor- 
gante was not written till upwards of a century after the death of Petrarca. The errors 
into which many writers on this subject have fallen, have been occasioned by a want 
of discrimination between the progress of Italian and of classical literature; a dis¬ 
tinction which I shall hereafter have occasion to develope more at large. 

9 La Poesia combatte col rasoio. Burch. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


157 


1480.] 

pen; but it is to be regretted that the excellences of these 
pieces are too often lost in their obscurity, and that, although 
we may at times perceive the vivid sallies of imagination, it 
is only as we see corruscations from a cloud by night, which 
leave us again in total darkness. This obscurity has been 
the cause of great regret to his admirers, several of whom 
have undertaken to comment upon and illustrate his works. 
Crescimbeni is of opinion, that these extravagant produc¬ 
tions were intended to satirize the absurdities of his poetical 
contemporaries, and the folly of their admirers; but satire 
too obscure to be generally understood, is not likely to 
effect a reformation . 10 

The Pulci were of a noble family of Florence, but seem 
to have declined any participation in the offices of The three 
the republic, for the purpose of devoting them- brothers of 
selves to their favourite studies. That a close in- 1 e 
timacy subsisted between them and the Medici is apparent 
from many of the works of these brothers, some of which 
are inscribed to their great patrons, and others Writings 
entirely devoted to their praise. The earliest pro- Bernardo 

«/ x i Pulci 

duction of any of this family is probably the elegy 
by Bernardo, to the memory of Cosmo de J Medici, which he 
has addressed to Lorenzo. To his elegy on the death of the 
beautiful Simonetta, we have before assigned its proper 
date. He afterwards translated the Eclogues of Virgil, 
which he also inscribed to Lorenzo de’ Medici . 11 Bernardo 

10 The sonnets of Burchiello were several times printed in the fifteenth century, 
generally without date. The earliest edition is supposed to be that of Bologna, 1475. 
In the following century they were commented by Anton Francesco Doni, and 
published at Venice, 1553; but the commentator stands no less in need of an in¬ 
terpreter than the author. This edition is inscribed by the editor to the celebrated 
artists Tintoretto and Romanelli, and is printed by Francesco Marcolini, in a singular 
but not inelegant type. Besides his sonnets, Burchiello is also the author of a satire in 
terza rima, in which he has attempted to imitate the manner of Dante. The objects 
of his animadversion are the practitioners of what are called the liberal professions 
in Florence, amongst whom the physicians have their full share of ridicule. Of 
this poem, which has not been printed, a copy is preserved in the Gaddi library, 
now incorporated with that of the great duke of Florence. (Band. Cat. vol. v. Plut. 
xliv. cod. 30.) Another transcript of the fifteenth century is in my possession, from 
which I shall give a short extract in the Appendix; whence the reader may be 
further enabled to judge of the state of Italian literature immediately previous to the 
time of Lorenzo de’ Medici. App. No. XXII. 

11 This was the first attempt to translate the Eclogues of Virgil into the Italian 
language. From the dedication of these pieces, it is not difficult to determine that 
they were translated about the year 1470, as the author adverts to the recent death 


158 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

is likewise the author of a poem on the passion of Christ, 
which is by no means devoid of poetical merit. It is pre¬ 
ceded by a dedication to a pious nun; from which it ap¬ 
pears that the good sister had not only prescribed this 
subject to the poet, but that by her pressing instances he 
had been induced to complete the work, which he affirms 
had cost him many a tear . 12 In the Laurentian library 
some other poems of this author are yet preserved, that 
have not hitherto been published . 13 

Of Luca Pulci, whose verses on the tournament of Lo¬ 
renzo have before been noticed, we have two other 
Luca Puici. p 0emg The first of these, entitled “ II Ciriffo 

Calvaneo,” is an epic romance, and was probably the first 
that appeared in Italy; it being certainly produced slime 
years prior to the “ Morgante” of Luigi Puici, and to the 
“ Orlando Innamorato” of Bojardo, two pieces which have 
generally been considered as the first examples of this 
species of poetry. In relating the wars between the Chris¬ 
tians and the Infidels, the author seems to have prepared 


of Piero de’ Medici, and at the same time mentions his translation as having been 
commenced in the year preceding his address to Lorenzo; that they are not to be 
referred to a much later period, is evident from his congratulating Lorenzo on his 
knowledge of the Latin tongue, which he asserts is far beyond his years. These 
translations were first published in 1481, and again at Florence, in 1494. Tiraboschi 
is mistaken in supposing that the Eclogues of Bernardo, and his version of the Buco¬ 
lics, are different works. (Storia della Lett. Ital. vol. vi. parte ii. p. 174.) In both 
these editions, the works of Bernardo are united with those of other writers, although 
in the latter some additional pieces are included. The title of this edition is as 
follows : “ Bucoliche elegantissimamente composte da Bernardo Puici Fiorentino. Et 
da Francesco de Arsochi Senese et da Hieronymo Benivieni Fiorentino et da Jacopo 
Fiorino de Boninsegni Senese.’’ At the close we read: “ Finite sono le quattro Bocco- 
liche sopra decte con una elegia della morte di Cosimo. Et un ultra elegia della 
morte della diva Simoneta. Et un altra elegia di nuovo adgiunta. Impresse in 
Firenze per maestro Antonio Mischomini anno mcccclxxxxiiii. a di xviii del mese 
Aprile.” 

12 This poem was published at Florence per Franc. Bonacursio, die 3 Novembris, 
anno 1490, in 4to. (Haym. Bibl. Ital. p. 95.) But I conceive that the edition also 
printed at Florence, without note of the year, or name of the printer, and having at 
the close only the mark “ Florentiae impressum,” is of earlier date. The lady to 
whom it is inscribed is Annalena de’ Tanini nel monasterio delle murate, who was 
probably sister of the author’s wife, as it appears that he married a lady of the 
family of Tanini, who, as well as her husband, was distinguished by her talents for 
poetry. 

13 From these I shall give two sonnets addressed to Lorenzo de’ Medici, which are 
followed by thirty-eight others, all on the exhaustless subject of Love. At what time 
they were written is uncertain; but from their being addressed to Lorenzo, we may 
conjecture that he was then of manly age, before which time he had given some 
specimens of his own poetical talents. App. No. XXIII. 



LORENZO De’ MEDICI. 


159 


1480 .] 

the way for the more celebrated works on the same subject 
which soon afterwards followed . 14 This poem was left un¬ 
finished by the author, but at the instance of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, was, after the death of Luca, completed by Ber¬ 
nardo Giambullari . 15 The “ Driadeo d’Amore” is a pas¬ 
toral romance in ottava rima , and is dedicated by the author 
to Lorenzo de’ Medici, for whose particular amusement 
he professes to have written it . 16 The heroic epistles of 
Luca Pulci do credit to their author. These epistles are 
eighteen in number, and are composed in terza rima. The 
first is from Lucretia to Lauro; that is, from the accom¬ 
plished Lucretia Donati to Lorenzo de’ Medici. The others 

14 II Ciriffo Calvaneo, and his companion II Povero Aweduto, the heroes of the 
poem, are the illicit offspring of two unfortunate ladies, who, being abandoned by 
their lovers, are indebted to the shepherd Lecore for their preservation. As the 
young men grow up, they display their courage in pursuing wild beasts, and their 
generosity in giving away the old shepherd’s cattle and effects; in consequence of 
which he breaks his heart. Massima, the mother of II Ciriffo, then informs them 
of the nobility of their origin, and of the distress which she has herself suffered; in 
consequence of which her son piously swears to accomplish the death of his father, 
which vow he accordingly fulfils. Repenting of his crime, he hastens to Rome, 
obtains Christian baptism, and the remission of his sins. In the mean time II Povero 
Aweduto is carried off by Epidoniffo, a pirate of Marseilles, who stood in fear neither 
of God nor his saints, 

“ Egli harebbe rubata quella nave 
Dove Christo a San Pier venne in ajuto; 

E se vi fusser stato su, le chiave 
Tolte, e poi l’oro e l’argento fonduto; 

E preso in terra l’angel che disse ave, 

Menato a fusta, e ne’ ferri tenuto, 

E spogliato Gioseppe vecchiarello, 

Ma col baston prima scosso il mantello.” 

After many adventures, II Povero Aweduto goes to the assistance of Tebaldo, 
sultan of Egypt, who was besieged by Luigi, king of France: the combatants on each 
side are particularly described. A battle takes place, after which II Povero is made 
a cavalier by the sultan, for whose particular amusement he tilts with his newly- 
discovered brother Lionetto. Such is the heterogeneous mixture which composes 
this poem; the invention of which is not, however, to be wholly attributed to Luca. 
In the Gaddi library is a MS. anterior to his time by 150 years, entitled by Bandini 
“ Liber pauperis prudentis.” (Cat. Bibl. Laur. vol. v. Plut. xliv. cod. 30.) From 
which it sufficiently appears that in this instance Luca is only an imitator. It is to 
be regretted that his judgment did not lead him to select a better model. 

15 It was printed, with the continuation of Giambullari, at Florence, in 1535, and 
had probably been printed before, as it is dedicated to Lorenzo de’ Medici, the 
grandson of Lorenzo the Magnificent, who died in the year 1519. It there consists 
of four books, of which the first only is the work of Pulci. The “ Ciriffo Calvaneo” 
was reprinted with the “ Giostra” of Lorenzo, and other works of Luca, by the Giunti 
at Florence, in 1572 ; but the continuation by Giambullari is there omitted. 

16 Printed at Florence in 1479. (De Bure Bibliogr. Instruc. No. 3411.) I have 
seen two other ancient editions of this poem, without date ; at the close of one of 
which we read “ Finito il Driadeo per Luca Pulci ad Petitione di ser Piero Pacini.” 
Haym erroneously attributes this poem to Luigi Pulci; and I conceive he is also 
mistaken in citing an edition of 1489. Bibl. Ital. p. 91. 


THE LIFE OF 


160 


[CH. V. 


are founded on different incidents in the ancient Greek and 
Roman history. 17 

Luigi Pulci, the youngest of these brothers, was born on 
the 3d day of December, 1431, and appears, from 
many circumstances, to have lived on terms of the 
utmost friendship with Lorenzo de J Medici, who in one of 
his poems mentions him with great freedom and jocularity. 18 
The principal work of this author is the “Morgante maggiore,” 
a poem which has given rise to various opinions and con¬ 
jectures, as to its tendency and its merits. Whether this 
poem, or the A Orlando Innamorato” of the count Bojardo, 
was first written, has been a matter of doubt; certain it is, 
that in publication the “ Morgante” had the priority, having 
been printed at Venice in 1488, after a Florentine edition 
of uncertain date, whilst the “ Orlando Innamorato” did not 
appear till the year 1496. 19 Accordingly the “ Morgante” is 

generally regarded as the prototype of the “ Orlando Furioso” 
of Ariosto. It has been said that Ficino and Politiano had 
each a share in the composition of this work; but the poetry 
of Politiano is of a very different character, and there is no 
instance on record that Ficino ever attempted poetical com¬ 
position. 20 The same degree of credit is due to the opinion, 
that Luigi Pulci was accustomed to recite his poem at the 
table of Lorenzo de’ Medici, about the year 1450 ; 21 for it 
must be remembered that Lorenzo de’ Medici was only born 

17 These epistles have been several times printed. Tiraboschi refers to an edition 
of 1481, and I have met with three others; the first “ Impresso in Firenze per ser 
Francesco Bonacorsi et per Antonio di Francesco Venetiano nell’ anno mcccclxxxviii, 
a di xxviii di Febraiothe second at Florence in 1513, and the last in 1572. 

18 In his poem on hawking, entitled “ La Caccia col Falcone,” first published at 
the close of the present work. 

19 It is evident from the following lines at the conclusion of the poem of Bojardo 
that it was not finished when the French made an irruption into Italy, in the 
year 1494: 

“ Mentre ch’ io canto, Ahime Dio redentore, 

Veggio 1’ Italia tutta a fiamma e a fuoco 
Per questi Galli, che con gran furore 
Vengon per rovinar non so che luoco.” 

Bojardo, Orl. Inam. lib. iii. canto 9, ed. Ven. 1548. 

20 Limerno Pitocco (Teofilo Folengi) iu his extravagant and licentious poem of 
“ Orlandino,” ridicules the idea of Politiano being the author of Morgante. 

21 Dr. Burney’s History of Music, vol. iv. p. 14. For this the learned and 
ingenious author has cited the authority of Crescimbeni, (vol. ii. part ii. p. 273, 
ed. Ven. 1730,) who informs us, as is probably the truth, that Pulci was accustomed 
to recite his poem in the manner of the ancient rhapsodists, at the table of Lorenzo 
de’ Medici, but does not fix this event at any particular period, though he afterwards 
informs us that Luigi flourished about the year 1450. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


161 


1480.] 

in 1448. It may further be observed, that although the 
“Morgante” was written at the particular request of Lucretia, 
the mother of Lorenzo, it was not finished till after her 
death, which did not happen till the year 1482. 32 This 
singular offspring of the wayward genius of Pulci has been 
as immoderately commended by its admirers, as it has been 
unreasonably degraded and condemned by its opponents; 
and whilst some have not scrupled to give it the precedence, 
in point of poetical merit, to the productions of Ariosto and 
of Tasso, others have decried it as vulgar, absurd, and pro¬ 
fane ; and the censures of the church have been promulged 
in confirmation of the latter part of the sentence. 23 Prom 
the solemnity and devotion with which every canto is intro¬ 
duced, some have judged that the author meant to give a 
serious narrative; but the improbability of the relation, 
and the burlesque nature of the incidents, destroy all ideas 
of this kind. By others, this author has been accused of a 
total want of elegance in his expressions, and of harmony 
in his verse ; but this work yet ranks as classical in Italian 
literature, and, if it be not poetry of the highest relish, has 
a flavour that is yet perceptible. 

The sonnets of Luigi Pulci, printed with those of Matteo 
Pranco, have the same capricious character as his Ma tteo 
other writings, and bear a resemblance to those of Franco * 
his predecessor Burchiello. Pranco, the poetic correspondent 
of Pulci, was a canon of Plorence, and was by no means 
inferior to him in pungency and humour. It is to be re¬ 
gretted that these authors so far exceeded at times the 
bounds of civility and decorum, that it is scarcely possible 
to suggest an expression of reproach and resentment which 
is not to be found in their writings. The family name of 
Pulci (Pulex) affords an ample subject for the satirical 
powers of Pranco. 24 His person is a theme equally fertile. 

22 Morgant. Magg. cant, xxviii. stan. 124, ed. 1546. 

23 Folengi, however, ranks the poems of Pulci as canonical, with those of Bojardo, 
Ariosto, Francesco Cieco, and himself; and freely condemns those of the other 
romancers to the flames, as apocryphal. 

24 “ A che credi ch’ io pensi, o ch’ io balocchi 
Tanti de’ Pulci le persone stolte ? 

Perche de’ Pulci hai sol tre cose tolte, 

Leggerezza, colore, e piccini occhi, 

Ma il nome tuo e Gigi de’ Pidocchi,” &c. Son. ix. 

11 


162 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

Famine, says his antagonist, was as naturally depicted in 
his countenance as if it had been the work of Giotto . 35 He 
had made an eight days’ truce with death, which was on 
the point of expiring, when he would be swept away to 
Giudecca , (the lowest pit of Dante,) where his brother Luca 
was gone before to prepare him a place . 36 Luigi supports 
this opprobrious contest by telling his adversary that he was 
marked at his birth with the sign of the halter, instead of 
that of the cross, and by a thousand other imputations, of 
which decency forbids a repetition . 37 We are, however, 
informed, by the editor of the ancient edition of these 
poems, that although, for the amusement of their readers, 
these authors so lavishly abused and satirized each other, 
they continued in reality intimate friends; and this infor¬ 
mation is rendered highly probable, by their having equally 
shared the favour of Lorenzo de’ Medici, whose authority 
would have suppressed the first indications of real dissen¬ 
sion. The freedoms in which they indulged themselves 
called, however, for the interference of the inquisition; and 
a prohibition was issued against the further circulation of 
this work . 38 But although the productions of the before- 
mentioned authors display some share of vivacity and ima¬ 
gination, and exhibit at times a natural and easy vein of 
poetry; yet upon the whole they are strongly tinctured with 
the rusticity of the age in which they were produced. 

25 “ E gia la fame in fronte al naturale 

Porti dipinta, e pare opra di Giotto.” Son. xxxvii. 

26 “ Tenuto hai con la morte, 

Otto di triegua; hor che sofferto ha troppo, 

Con la falce fienaja vien di galoppa. 

Tu n’ andrai a pie zoppo, 

A trovar Luca tuo, ladro di zecca, 

Che per te serba un luogo alia Judecca.” Son. xxxvii. 

27 “ Tu nascesti col segno del capresto, 

Come in Francia si dice della croce.” Son. xxx. 

28 I have seen an edition of these poems, without note of date or place, but ap¬ 
parently printed about the close of the fifteenth century, and entitled “ Sonetti 

DI MISSERE MATTHEO FRANCO ET DI LUIGI PULCI JOCOSI ET FACETI CIOE DA 

ridere.” Many of these sonnets are addressed to Lorenzo de’ Medici, for whose 
favour the rival poets seem to have contended, by endeavouring to surpass each 
other in eccentricity and scurrility. A new edition was published in the year 1759, 
by the marchese Filippo de’ Rossi, who informs us that they were three times 
printed in the fifteenth century. 


LORENZO BE’ MEDICI. 


163 


1480.] 

That Lorenzo de’ Medici had begun to exercise his talents 
for poetry at a very early age, there remains de- Early pro 
cisive proof. We have before adverted to his in- auctions of 
terview with Federigo of Naples, at Pisa, in the Lorenzo ' 
year 1465. On this occasion he was requested by that 
prince to point out to him such pieces of Italian poetry as 
were most deserving of his attention. Lorenzo willingly 
complied with his request; and shortly afterwards selected 
a small volume, at the close of which he added some of his 
own sonnets and canzoni, addressing them to Federigo in a 
few prefatory lines, as a testimony of his affection and 
regard. 29 Hence it appears, that at the age of seventeen 
Lorenzo had attempted different kinds of composition, 
which may be considered not only as anterior to the cele¬ 
brated poem of Politiano, on the “ Giostra” of Giuliano, 
which we have before noticed, but probably to any of the 
writings of the Pulci. But however the Pulci may contend 
with Lorenzo in priority, they fall greatly short of him in 
all the essential requisites of a poet; and whilst their pro¬ 
ductions bear the uniform character of a rude and unculti¬ 
vated age, those of Lorenzo de’ Medici are distinguished by 
a vigour of imagination, an accuracy of judgment, and an 
elegance of style, which afforded the first great example of 
improvement, and entitle him, almost exclusively, to the 
honourable appellation of the restorer of Italian literature. 

29 This singular circumstance, which so decisively ascertains the early period at 
which Lorenzo began to exercise his poetical talents, was first discovered by Apostolo 
Zeno, who having, in the year 1742, found in the possession of his friend Jacopo 
Facciolati, at Padua, a manuscript collection of ancient Italian poems, was, after 
mature deliberation, induced to conjecture that they were collected and arranged by 
Lorenzo de’ Medici. To this supposition he was principally led by the introductory 
address to Federigo of Arragon, in which the compiler adverts to the visit of Fede¬ 
rigo to Pisa, in the preceding year, and afterwards addresses that prince in the fol¬ 
lowing terms: “ At the close of the book, (conceiving that it might afford you some 
satisfaction) I have inserted a few of my own sonnets and canzoni with the 
expectation, that when you peruse them they may recall to your remembrance the 
fidelity and attachment of their author." On comparing the productions of the ano¬ 
nymous compiler, with the “ Poesie Volgari” of Lorenzo, printed by Aldo in 1554, the 
conjectures of the critic were amply confirmed; he having there discovered almost 
every poem which appeared in the manuscript, except five pieces, which he conceived 
might probably be inserted in the “ Canzone a Ballo” of Lorenzo and Politiano, but 
which in fact he could not then ascertain for want of that work. I shall give the 
letter of Zeno on this subject, in the Appendix, No. XXIV. I must, however, ob¬ 
serve, that the visit of Federigo to Pisa was not in 1464, as mentioned by Zeno, who 
has too hastily quoted Ammirato, (vol. iii. p. 93,) but in 1465, as will appear by a 
reference to the before-cited passage of the Florentine historian. 


164 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

Within the course of a few years Politiano, Benivieni, and 
others, imbibed the true spirit of poetry, and Florence had 
once more the credit of rekindling that spark which was 
soon to diffuse a lustre through the remotest parts of 
Europe. 

If, in order to justify the pretensions of Lorenzo to the 
inquiry into ran k here assigned him it were sufficient merely 
his merits as to adduce the authority of succeeding critics, this 

sl poet * ^ 

would be productive of little difficulty. But to 
found our opiAion of an author whose works are yet open 
to examination, on that of others, however it may soothe 
our indolence, or gratify our curiosity, cannot inform our 
judgment. It is from the writings which yet remain of 
Lorenzo de’ Medici that we are to acquire a just idea of his 
general character as a poet, and to determine how far they 
have been instrumental in effecting a reformation in the 
taste of his countrymen, or in opening the way to subse¬ 
quent improvements . 30 

The great end and object of poetry, and consequently the 
object and proper aim of the poet, is to communicate to us a 
clear and perfect idea of his proposed subject. 
try. What the painter exhibits to us by variety of 
colour, by light and shade, the poet expresses in appro¬ 
priate language. The former seizes merely the external 
form, and that only in a given attitude; the other surrounds 
his object, pierces it, and discloses its most hidden qualities. 
With the former it is inert and motionless; with the latter it 
lives and moves, it is expanded or compressed, it glares 
upon the imagination, or vanishes in air, and is as various 
as nature herself. 

The simple description of natural objects is perhaps to a 
Description y oun g mind the most delightful species of poetry, 
and was probably the first employment of the poet. 
It may be compared to melody in music, which is relished 
even by the most uncultivated ear. In this department 
Virgil is an exquisite master . 31 Still more lively are the 

30 Vide Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 128. 

31 How grateful to our sensations, how distinct to our imaginations, appear the— 

“ Speluncse, vivique lacus, ac frigida Tempe, 

Mugitusque bourn, mollesque sub arbore somni.” 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


165 


1480 .] 

conceptions of Dante, still more precise the language in 
which they are expressed. As we follow him, his wildest 
excursions take the appearance of reality. Compared with 
his vivid hues, how faint, how delicate is the colouring of 
Petrarca! yet the harmony of the tints almost compensates 
for their want of force. With accurate descriptions of the 
face of nature the works of Lorenzo abound; and Talents of 
these are often heightened by those minute but Lorenzo for 
striking characteristics, which, though open to all escnp 
observers, the eye of the poet can alone select. Thus the 
description of an Italian winter, with which he opens his 
poem of “ Ambra,” 32 is marked by several appropriate and 
striking images. 

The foliage of the olive appears of a dark green, but is 
nearly white beneath: 

L’ uliva, in qualche dolce piaggia aprica, 

Secondo il vento par, or verde, or bianca. 


On some sweet sunny slope the olive grows, 

Its hues still changing as the zephyr blows. 

The flight of the cranes, though frequently noticed in 
poetry, was perhaps never described in language more pic¬ 
turesque than the following from the same poem: 

Stridendo in ciel, i gru veggonsi a lunge 
L’ aere stampar di varie e belle forme; 

E Y ultima col collo steso aggiunge 
Ov’ e quella dinanzi alle vane orme. 


Marking the tracts of air, the clamorous cranes 
Wheel their due flight, in varied lines descried; 

And each with outstretched neck his rank maintains, 

In marshal’d order through th’ ethereal void. 

The following picture from his “ Selve d 5 Amore” is also 
drawn with great truth and simplicity: 

A1 dolce tempo il bon pastore informa 
Lasciar le mandre, ove nel verno giacque : 

E ’1 lieto gregge, che ballando in torma, 

Torna all’ alte montagne, alle fresche acque. 

L’ agnel, trottando pur la materna orma 
Segue; ed alcun, che pur or ora nacque, 

L’ amorevol pastore in braccio porta: 

Il fido cane a tutti fa la scorta. 


32 Published for the first time at the close of the present work. 





166 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 


Sweet spring returns; the shepherd from the fold 
Brings forth his flock, nor dreads the wintry cold; 

Delighted once again their steps to lead 

To the green hill, clear spring, and flowery mead. 

True to their mother’s track, the sportive young 
Trip light, the careful hind slow moves along, 

Pleased in his arms the new-dropt lamb to bear; 

His dog, a faithful guard, brings up the rear. 

In the same poem is a description of the golden age, in 
which the author seems to have exerted all his powers in 
selecting such images as are supposed to have been pe¬ 
culiar to that happy state of life. 

But the description of natural objects awakes in the 
poetic com- poet’s mind corresponding emotions; as his heart 
parison. wa rms, his fancy expands, and he labours to 
convey a more distinct or a more elevated idea of the im¬ 
pressions of his own imagination. Hence the origin of 
figures, or figurative language; in the use of which he aims 
at describing his principal subject, by the qualities of some 
other object more generally known, or more striking in its 
nature. These figures of poetry have furnished the philo¬ 
logists of ancient and modern times with a great variety of 
minute distinctions, but many of them consist rather in 
form than in substance; comparison, expressed or implied, 
will be found to be the essence of them all. 

In the employment of comparative illustration, Lorenzo 

Instances de’ Medici is often particularly happy. An atten- 
I tive observer of the works of nature, as well in her 
renzo - general appearances, as in her more minute opera¬ 
tions, intimately acquainted with all the finer productions 
of art, and accustomed to the most abstruse speculations of 
philosophy, whatever occurred to his mind excited a pro¬ 
fusion of relative ideas, either bearing a general resemblance 
to his immediate subject, or associated with it by some pe¬ 
culiar circumstance. The first of these he often employed 
for the purpose of explanation or of ornament, in his more 
serious compositions, the latter with great wit and vivacity 
in his lighter productions. At some times one external 
object, or one corporeal action, is elucidated by another; 
at other times natural phenomena are personified, and illus¬ 
trated by sensible images; and instances occur where ab- 


167 


1480 .] LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 

stract ideas and metaphysical sentiments are brought before 
the mind, by a comparison with the objects of the material 
world. Of the simplest mode of comparison the following 
is no inelegant instance: 

Quando sopra i nevosi ed alti monti, 

Apollo spande il suo bel lume adorno, 

Tal i crin suoi sopra la bianca gonna. Son. lxxiii. 


-O’er her white dress her shining tresses flow’d; 

Thus on the mountain heights with snow o’erspread, 

The beams of noon their golden lustre shed. 

In his pastoral of Corydon, the shepherd thus addresses 
his scornful mistress, elucidating one action by another: 

Lasso quanto dolor io aggio avuto, 

Quando fuggi da gli occhi col pie scalzo; 

Et con quanti sospir ho gia temuto 
Che spine, o fere venenose, o il balzo 
Non offenda i tuoi piedi; io mi ritegno, 

Per te fuggo i pie invano, e per te gli alzo; 

Come chi drizza stral veloce al segno, 

Poi che tratt’ ha, torcendo il capo crede 
Drizzarlo, egli e gia fuor del curvo legno. 


Ah nymph! what pangs are mine, when causeless fright 
O’er hill, o’er valley, wings thy giddy flight, 

Lest some sharp thorn thy heedless way may meet, 

Some poisonous reptile wound thy naked feet. 

Thy pains I feel, but deprecate in vain, 

And turn, and raise my feet, in sympathetic pain, 

So when the archer, with attentive glance, 

Marks his fleet arrow wing its way askance, 

He strives with tortuous act and head aside, 

Right to the mark its devious course to guide. 

The following sonnet affords an instance, not only of the 
illustration of one sensible object by another, but of the 
comparison of an abstract sentiment with a beautiful natural 
image: 


SONETTO. 

Oime, che belle lagrime fur quelle 
Che ’1 nembo di disio stillando mosse! 
Quando il giusto dolor che 1 cor percosse, 
Sali poi su nell’ amorose stelle! 

Rigavon per la delicata pelle 

Le bianche guancie dolcemente rosse 
Come chiar rio faria, che ’n prato fosse, 
Fior bianchi, e rossi, le lagrime belle; 





168 


THE LIFE OF 


[ch. y. 


Lieto amor stava in 1’ amorosa pioggia, 

Com’ uccel dopo il sol, hramate tanto, 

Lieto riceve rugiadose stille. 33 
Poi piangendo in quelli occhi ov’ egli alloggia, 
Facea del bello e doloroso pianto, 
Visibilmente uscir dolce faville. 


Ah pearly drops, that, pouring from those eyes, 

Spoke the dissolving cloud of soft desire! 

What time cold sorrow chill’d the genial fire, 

“ Struck the fair urns and bade the waters rise.” 

Soft down those cheeks, where native crimson vies 
With*ivory whiteness, see the crystals throng; 

As some clear river winds its stream along, 

Bathing the flowers of pale and purple dyes. 

Whilst Love, rejoicing in the amorous shower, 

Stands like some bird, that after sultry heats 
Enjoys the drops, and shakes his glittering wings; 
Then grasps his bolt, and, conscious of his power, 

’Midst those bright orbs assumes his wonted seat, 

And through the lucid shower his living lightning flings. 


To examples of this kind I shall only add another, in 
which the poet has attempted to explain the mysterious in¬ 
tercourse of Platonic affection, by a familiar but fanciful 
comparison:— 


33 Spenser has a similar passage in his “ Mourning Muse of Thestylis 

The blinded archer boy, 

Like larke in showre of rain, 

Sate bathing of his wings, 

And glad the time did spend 
Under those chrystall drops 
Which fell from her faire eyes, 

And at their brightest beams 
Him proyn’d in lovely wise. 

Mr. Warton, in his observations on the Fairy Queen (vol. i. p. 223) has traced 
this passage to Ariosto (Canto ii. Stanza 65) : 

Cosx a le belle lagrime le piume 
Si bagna amore, e gode al chiaro lume: 

though he thinks Spenser’s verses bear a stronger resemblance to those of Nic. Archias 
(or the count Nicolo d’Arco, a Latin poet of the 16th century) : 

Turn suavi in pluvia nitens Cupido, 

Insidehat, uti solet volucris, 

Ramo, vere novo, ad novos tepores 
Post solem accipere aetheris liquores, 

Gestire et pluviee ore blandiendo. 

I have only to add, that as Lorenzo de’ Medici is the earliest author who has 
availed himself of this beautiful idea, so his’ representation of it has not been surpassed 
by any of those who have since adopted it. 



1480 .] 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


169 


Delle caverne antiche 

Trahe la fiamma del sol, fervente e chiara, 
Le picciole formiche. 

Sagace alcuna e sollecita impara, 

E dice all’ altre, ov’ ha il parco villano 
Ascoso astuto un monticel di grano; 

Ond’ esce fuor la nera turba avara: 

Tutte di mano in mano 
Yanno e vengon dal monte; 

Porton la cara preda in bocca, e ’n mano: 
Vanno leggieri, e pronte, 

E gravi e carche ritornon di fore. 

Fermon la picciola orma 

Scontrandosi in cammino; e mentre posa 
L’ una, quell’ altra informa 
Dell’ alta preda; onde piu disiosa 
Alla dolce fatica ogn’ or 1’ invita. 

Calcata e spessa e la via lunga, e trita; 

E se riporton ben tutte una cosa, 

Piu cara e piu gradita 
Sempre e, quant’ esser deve 
Cosa, senza la qual manca la vita. 

Lo ingiusto fascio e lieve, 

Se ’1 picciol animal senz’ esso more. 

Cos! li pensier miei 

Van piil leggieri alia mia Donna bella; 
Scontrando quei di lei 
Fermonsi, e 1’ un con 1’ altro allor favella. 
Dolce preda s’ e ben quanto con loro, 
Porton dal caro ed immortal tesoro. 


As from their wintry cells, 

The summer’s genial warmth impels 
The busy ants—a countless train 
That with sagacious sense explore, 

Where, provident for winter’s store, 

The careful rustic hides his treasured grain, 
Then issues forth the sable band, 

And seizing on the secret prize, 

From mouth to mouth, from hand to hand, 

His busy task each faithful insect plies, 

And often as they meet, 

With scanty interval of toil, 

Their burthens they repose awhile, 

For rest alternate renders labour sweet. 

The travel’d path their lengthened tracks betray, 
And if no varied cates they bear, 

Yet ever is the portion dear, 

Without whose aid the powers of life decay. 

Thus from my faithful breast, 

The busy messengers of love, 

Incessant towards my fair one’s bosom move; 
But in their way some gentle thought 
They meet, with kind compassion fraught, 

Soft breathing from that sacred shrine, 

Where dwells a heart in unison with mine, 

And in sweet interchange delight awhile to rest. 


Canz. xii. 



170 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

But the poet does not confine himself to the lively de- 
Personifica- scr iption of nature, or of the corresponding emo¬ 
tion of mate- tions of his own mind. His next attempt is of 
mi objects. a and the inanimate objects by which 

he is surrounded seem to possess life and motion, con¬ 
sciousness and reason, to act and to suffer. The mountains 
frown, the rivers murmur, the woods sigh, and the fable of 
Orpheus is revived. In the use of this figure, Petrarca is 
inexhaustible; and there are few rural objects that have not 
been called upon to share his emotions; the tenderness of 
the lover inspires the fancy of the poet, he addresses them 
as if they were conscious of his passion, and applauds or 
reproaches them as they are favourable or adverse to the 
promotion of it. The works of Lorenzo afford also frequent 
instances of the use of this figure, which more than any 
other gives action and spirit to poetry. In the following 
sonnet he not only animates the violets, but represents them 
as accounting, by a beautiful fiction, for their purple colour: 

SONETTO. 

Non di verdi giardin, ornati, e colti 
Del soave e dolce aere Pestano, 

Veniam, Madonna, in la tua bianca mano; 

Ma in aspre selve, e valli ombrose colti; 

Ove Venere afflitta, e in pensier molti, 

Pel periglio d’ Adon correndo in vano, 

Un spino acuto al nudo pie villano 
Sparse del divin sangue i boschi folti: 

Noi sommettemmo allora il bianco fiore, 

Tanto che ’1 divin sangue non aggiunge 
A terra, ond’ il color purpureo nacque. 

Non aure estive, o rivi tolti a lunge 

Noi nutrit’ anno, ma sospir d’ amore 
L’ aure son sute, e pianti d’ Amor 1’ acque. 


Not from the verdant garden’s cultured bound, 

That breathes of Pcestum’s aromatic gale, 

We sprung; but nurslings of the lonely vale, 

’Midst woods obscure, and native glooms were found; 

’Midst woods and glooms, whose tangled brakes around 
Once Venus sorrowing traced, as all forlorn 
She sought Adonis, when a lurking thorn 
Deep on her foot impress’d an impious wound. 

Then prone to earth we bow’d our pallid flowers, 

And caught the drops divine; the purple dyes 
Tinging the lustre of our native hue: 

Nor summer gales nor art-conducted showers 
Have nursed our slender forms, but lovers’ sighs 
Have been our gales, and lovers’ tears our dew. 



1480] LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 171 

The province of the poet is not, however, confined to the 
representation, or to the combination of material and Gf the pas 
external objects. The fields of intellect are equally sions and af- 
subject to his control. The affections and passions 
of the human mind, the abstract ideas of unsubstantial exist¬ 
ence, serve in their turn to exercise his powers. In arranging 
themselves under his dominion, it becomes necessary that 
they should take a visible and substantial form, distinguished 
by their attributes, their insignia, and their effects. With 
this form the imagination of the poet invests them, and they 
then become as subservient to his purpose as if they were 
objects of external sense. In process of time, some of these 
children of imagination acquire a kind of prescriptive iden¬ 
tity ; and the symbolic forms of pleasure, or of wisdom, pre¬ 
sent themselves to our minds in nearly as definite a manner 
as the natural ones of Ajax, or of Achilles. Thus embodied, 
they become important actors in the drama and are scarcely 
distinguishable from human character. But the offspring 
of fancy is infinite; and however the regions of poetry may 
seem to be peopled by these fantastic beings, genius will 
still proceed to invent, to vary, and to combine. 

If the moderns excel the ancients in any department of 
poetry, it is in that now under consideration. It comparative 
must not indeed be supposed that the ancients were the el ane^n°ts 
insensible of the effects produced by this powerful ^ ld t ™° u d s e e r " s f 
charm, which more peculiarly than any other may the pwsopo- 
be said peta ' 

-To give to airy nothing 

A local habitation and a name ; 

but it may safely be asserted, that they have availed them¬ 
selves of this creative faculty much more sparingly, and 
with much less success than their modern competitors. 
The attribution of sense to inert objects is indeed common 
to both; but that still bolder exertion which embodies ab¬ 
stract existence, and renders it susceptible of ocular repre¬ 
sentation, is almost exclusively the boast of the moderns . 34 


34 If Virgil has given us a highly-finished personification of Rumour; if Horace 
speaks of his atra cur a; if Lucretius presents us with an awful picture of Supersti- 



172 


THE LIFE OF 


[ch. V. 

If, however, we advert to the few authors who preceded 
Lorenzo de’ Medici, we shall not trace in their writings 
many striking instances of those embodied pictures of ideal 
existence which are so conspicuous in the works of Ariosto, 
Spenser, Milton, and subsequent writers of the higher class, 
who are either natives of Italy, or have formed their taste 
upon the poets of that nation. 35 

The writings of Lorenzo afford many instances of genuine 
instances of poetical personification; some of which will not 
this figure. su ff er by a comparison with those of any of his 
most celebrated successors. Of this his representation of 
Jealousy may afford no inadequate proof. 

Solo una vecchia in un oscuro canto, 

Pallida, il sol fuggendo, si sedea, 

Tacita sospirando, ed un ammanto 
D’ un incerto color cangiante havea: 

Cento occhi ha in testa, e tutti versan pianto 
E cent' orecchie la maligna dea: 

Quel ch’ e quel che non e, trista ode e vede: 

Mai dorme, ed ostinata a se sol crede. 


tion; their portraits are so vague as scarcely to communicate any discriminate idea, 
and are characterized by their operation and effects, rather than by their poetical 
insignia. Of the ancient Roman authors, perhaps there is no one that abounds in 
these personifications more than the tragedian Seneca; yet what idea do we form of 
Labour when we are told, that 

“ Labor exoritur durus, et omnes 
Agitat curas, aperitque domos 

or of Hope or Fear from the following passage: 

“ Turbine magno, spes solicitae 
Urbibus errant, trepidique metus.” 

The personification of Hope by Tibullus (Lib. ii. Eleg. 6) is scarcely worthy of 
that charming author; and if he has been happier in his description of Sleep, (Lib. i. 
Eleg. 1) it is still liable to the objections before mentioned. 

35 One of the finest personifications of Petrarca is that of Liberty, in a beautiful 
canzone, which, on account of its political tendency, has been excluded from many 
editions of his works. 

“ Liberia, dolce e desiato bene! 

Mai conosciuto a chi talor no ’1 perde; 

Quanto gradito al buon mondo esser dei. 

Per te la vita vien fiorita e verde, 

Per te stato gioioso mi mantiene, 

Ch' ir mi fa somiglianti a gli alti dei: 

Senza te, lungamente non vorrei 
Ricchezze, onor, e cio ch' uom piu desia, 

Ma teco ogni tugurio acqueta Y alma." 

Yet the painter who would represent the allegorical form of Liberty, would derive 
but little assistance from the imagination of the poet. 



1480 .] 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


173 


Sad, in a nook obscure, and sighing deep, 

A pale and haggard beldam shrinks from view ; 

Her gloomy vigils there she loves to keep, 

Wrapt in a robe of ever-changing hue; 

A hundred eyes she has that ceaseless weep, 

A hundred ears, that pay attention due. 

Imagined evils aggravate her grief, 

Heedless of sleep, and stubborn to relief. 

If his personification of Hope be less discriminate, it is to 
be attributed to the nature of that passion, of which uncer¬ 
tainty is in some degree the characteristic. 

E una donna di statura immensa, 

La cima de’ capelli al ciel par monti; 

Formata, e vestita e di nehbia densa; 

Abita il sommo de’ piu alti monti. 

Se i nugoli guardando un forma, pensa 
Nove forme veder d’ animal pronti, 

Che ’1 vento muta, e poi di novo figne, 

Cos! Amor questa vana dipigne. 


Immense of bulk, her towering head she shews, 
Her floating tresses seem to touch the skies, 
Dark mists her unsubstantial shape compose, 
And on the mountain’s top her dwelling lies. 

As when the clouds fantastic shapes disclose, 

For ever varying to the gazer’s eyes, 

Till on the breeze the changeful hues escape, 
Thus vague her form, and mutable her shape. 

Her attendants are also highly characteristic. 

Seguon questa infelice in ogni parte 
II sogno, e 1’ augurio, e la bugia, 

E chiromanti, ed ogni fallace arte, 

Sorte, indovini, e falza profezia: 

La vocale, e la scritta in sciocche carte, 

Che dicon, quando e stato, quel che fia: 

L’ archimia, e chi di terra il ciel misura, 

E fatta a volonta la conjettura. 


Illusive beings round their sovereign wait, 

Deceitful dreams, and auguries, and lies, 

Innumerous arts the gaping crowd that cheat, 

Predictions wild, and groundless prophecies; 

With wondrous words, or written rolls of fate, 

Foretelling—when ’tis past—what yet shall rise; 

And alchymy, and astrologic skill, 

And fond conjecture—always form’d at will. 

Though not perhaps strictly to be ranked in this depart¬ 
ment, I shall not deprive my readers of the following fan¬ 
ciful description of the formation of the lover’s chain:— 




174 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 


Non gia cosi la mia bella catena 

Stringe il mio cor gentil, pien di dolcezza: 
Di tre nodi composta lieto il mena 
Con le sue mani; il prime fe bellezza, 

La pieta 1’ altro per si dolce pena, 

E P altro amor; ne tempo alcun gli spezza: 
La bella mano insieme poi gli strinse 
E di si dolce laccio il cor avvinse. 

* * * 

Quando tessuta fu questa catena, 

L’ aria, la terra, il ciel lieto concorse: 

L’ aria non fu giammai tanto serena, 

Ne il sol giammai si bella luce porse: 

Di frondi giovinette, e di fior piena 
La terra beta, ov’ un chiar rivo corse: 
Ciprigna in grembo al padre il di si mise, 
Lieta miro dal ciel quel loco, e rise. 

Dal divin capo, ed amoroso seno, 

Prese con ambo man rose diverse, 

E le sparse nel ciel queto e sereno: 

Di questi fior la mia donna coperse. 

Giove benigno, di letizia pieno, 

Gli umani orecchi quel bel giorno aperse 
A sentir la celeste melodia, 

Che in canti, ritmi, e suon, dal ciel venia. 


Dear are those bonds my willing heart that bind, 
Form’d of three cords, in mystic union twined; 

The first by beauty’s rosy fingers wove, 

The next by pity, and the third by love. 

—The hour that gave this wondrous texture birth, 

Saw in sweet union, heaven, and air, and earth; 

Serene and soft all ether breath’d delight, 

The sun diffused a mild and temper’d light; 

New leaves the trees, sweet flowers adorn’d the mead, 
And sparkling rivers gush’d along the glade. 

Reposed on Jove’s own breast, his favourite child, 

The Cyprian queen beheld the scene and smiled; 

Then with both hands, from her ambrosial head, 

And amorous breast, a shower of roses shed; 

The heavenly shower descending soft and slow, 

Pour’d all its fragrance on my fair below; 

Whilst ah benign the ruler of the spheres 
To sounds celestial open’d mortal ears. 


From the foregoing specimens we may be enabled to 
Various spe- form a general idea of the merits of Lorenzo de’ 
try S cultivated Medici, and may perceive, that of the essential 
by Lorenzo, requisites of poetic composition, instances are to 
be found in his writings. The talents of a poet he certainly 
possessed. But before we can form a complete estimate of 
his poetical character, it will be necessary to inquire to what 



LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


175 


1480.] 

purpose those talents were applied, and this can only be 
done by taking a view of the different departments of 
poetry in which he employed his pen. In the execution of 
this task we may also be enabled to ascertain how far he 
has imitated his predecessors, and how far he has himself 
been a model to those who have succeeded him. 

The Italian sonnet is a species of composition almost coeval 
with the language itself; and may be traced back 0rigin of 
to that period when the Latin tongue, corrupted by the Italian 
the vulgar pronunciation, and intermixed with the sonnet ' 
idioms of the different nations that from time to time over-ran 
Italy, degenerated into what was called the lingua volgare; 
which language, though at first rude and unpolished, was, 
by successive exertions, reduced to a regular and determi¬ 
nate standard, and obtained at length a superiority over the 
Latin, not only in common use, but in the written compo¬ 
sitions of the learned. The form of the sonnet, confined 
to a certain versification, and to a certain number of lines, 
was unknown to the Roman poets, who adopting a legiti¬ 
mate measure, employed it as long as the subject required 
it, but was probably derived from the Provencals; although 
instances of the regular stanza, now used in these composi¬ 
tions, may be traced amongst the Italians, as early as the 
thirteenth century . 86 Prom that time to the present, the 
sonnet has retained its precise form, and has been the most 
favourite mode of composition in the Italian tongue. It 
may, however, be justly doubted whether the Italian poesy 
has, upon the whole, derived any great advantage from the 
frequent use of the sonnet. Confined to so narrow a com¬ 
pass, it admits not of that extent and range of ideas which 
suggest themselves to a mind already warm with its subject. 
On the contrary, it illustrates only some one distinct idea, 
and this must be extended or condensed, not as its nature 
requires, but as the rigid laws of the composition prescribe. 
One of the highest excellences of a master in this art con¬ 
sists, therefore, in the selection of a subject neither too long 


36 For a learned and curious disquisition on the origin of the Sonetto, v. “ Anno- 
tazioni di Francesco Redi, al suo ditirambo di Bacco in Toscana,” p. 99. 


176 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

nor too short for the space which it is intended to occupy . 37 
Hence the invention is cramped, and the free excursions of 
the mind are fettered and restrained. Hence, too, the 
greater part of these compositions display rather the glitter 
of wit than the fire of genius; and hence they have been 
almost solely appropriated to the illustration of the passion 
of love: a subject which, from its various nature, and the 
endless analogies of which it admits, is more susceptible 
than any other, of being apportioned into those detached 
sentiments of which the sonnet is composed. 

To these restraints, however, the stern genius of Dante 
frequently submitted. In his “ Vita Nuova” we have a consi¬ 
derable number of his sonnets, which bear the distinct 
marks of his character, and derogate not from the author of 
the “ Divina Commedia .” 38 These sonnets are uniformly de¬ 
voted to the praises of his Beatrice; but his passion is so 
spiritualized, and so remote from gross and earthly objects, 
that great doubts have arisen among his commentators, 
whether the object of his adoration had a substantial exis¬ 
tence, or was anything more than the abstract idea of wis¬ 
dom, or philosophy. Certain it is, that the abstruse and 
recondite sense of these productions seems but little suited 
to the comprehension of that sex to which they are ad¬ 
dressed, and ill calculated to promote the success of an 
amorous passion. The reputation of Dante as a poet is 
not, however, founded on this part of his labours; but 
Petrarca, whose other works have long been neglected, is 

37 The following remarks by Lorenzo de’ Medici, on this kind of composition, are 
as judicious, as they are pointed and concise: “ La brevita del sonetto non comporta, 
che una sola parola sia vana, ed il vero subietto e materia del sonetto debbe essere 
qualche acuta e gentile sentenza, narrata attamente, ed in pochi versi ristretta, e 
fuggendo la oscurita e durezza.” Comment, di Lor. de’ Med. sopra i suoi Sonetti, 
p. 120. Ed. Aid. 1554. 

38 If written in later times, some of these sonnets might have been thought to 
border on impiety. Thus the poet addresses the faithful—in love— 

“ A ciascum alma presa, e gentil core, 

Nel cui cospetto viene il dir presente, 

In cio che mi rescrivan suo parvente, 

Salute in lor signore—cioe Amore.” 

And again, in allusion to a well-known passage, 

“ 0 voi che per la via d’ amor passate, 

Attendete e guardate, 

S’ egli e dolore alcun quanto T mio grave.” 

Vita Nuova di Dante, Fir. 1723. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


177 


1480.] 

indebted to his sonnets and lyric productions for the high 
rank which he yet holds in the public estimation. Without 
degrading his subject by gross and sensual images, he has 
rendered it susceptible of general apprehension; and, whe¬ 
ther his passion was real or pretended, for even this has 
been doubted, he has traced the effects of love through 
every turn and winding of the human bosom; so that it is 
scarcely possible for a lover to find himself so situated, as 
not to meet with his own peculiar feelings reflected in some 
passage or other of that engaging author. 

Without possessing the terseness of those of Dante, or 
the polish and harmony of those of Petrarca, the sonnets of Q 
Lorenzo de’ Medici have indisputable pretensions to high 
poetical excellence. It is indeed to be regretted, that, like 
those of his two celebrated predecessors, they are almost all 
devoted to one subject—the illustration of an amorous 
passion; but he has so diversified and embellished them 
with images drawn from other sources, as to rescue them 
from that general censure of insipidity, which may properly 
be applied to the greater part of the productions of the 
Italians, in this their favourite mode of composition. These 
images he has sought for in almost all the appearances of 
nature, in the annals of history, the wilds of mythology, and 
the mysteries of the Platonic philosophy; and has exhibited 
them with a splendour and vivacity peculiar to himself. If 
the productions of Dante resemble the austere grandeur of 
Michael Agnolo, or if those of Petrarca remind us of the 
ease and gracefulness of Raffaello, the works of Lorenzo may 
be compared to the less correct, but more animated and 
splendid labours of the Venetian school. The poets, as 
well as the painters, each formed a distinct class, and have 
each had their exclusive admirers and imitators. In the 
beginning of the succeeding century, the celebrated Pietro 
Bembo attempted again to introduce the style of Petrarca; 
but his sonnets, though correct and chaste, are too often 
formal and insipid. Those of Casa, formed upon the same 
model, possess much more ease, and a greater flow of sen¬ 
timent. Succeeding authors united the correctness of 
Petrarca with the bolder colouring of Lorenzo; and in the 

12 


178 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

works of Ariosto, the two Tassos, Costanzo, Tansillo, and 
Guarini, the poetry of Italy attained its highest degree of 
perfection. 

The sonnets of Lorenzo de’ Medici are intermixed with 
Canzoni , Sestine, and other lyric productions, which in 
general display an equal elegance of sentiment, and bril¬ 
liancy of expression. One of his biographers is, however, 
of opinion, that the merit of his odes is inferior to that of 
his sonnets ; 89 but it is not easy to discover any striking 
evidence of the propriety of this remark. It must not, 
however, be denied, that his writings occasionally display 
too evident proofs of that haste with which it is probable 
they were all composed; or that they are sometimes inter¬ 
spersed with modes of expression, which would scarcely 
have been tolerated among the more accurate and polished 
writers of the succeeding century. The language of Lorenzo 
de’ Medici appears even more obsolete, and is more tinc¬ 
tured with the rusticity of the vulgar dialect, than that of 
Petrarca, who preceded him by so long an interval. But 
with all these defects, the intrinsic merit of his writings has 
been acknowledged by all those who have been able to 
divest themselves of an undue partiality for the fashion of 
the day, and who can discern true excellence, through the 
disadvantages of a dress in some respects antiquated, or 
negligent. Muratori, in his treatise on the poetry of Italy, has 
accordingly adduced several of the sonnets of Lorenzo, as ex¬ 
amples of elegant composition : “ It is gold from the mine ,” 40 
says that judicious critic, adverting to one of these pieces, 
“ mixed indeed with ruder materials, yet it is always gold .” 41 

The “ Selve d’Amore” of Lorenzo de’ Medici is a compo- 

39 Fab. in vita Laur. vol. i. p. 3 0. 

40 Murat, della perfetta poesia Italiana, vol. ii. p. 376. 

41 In the general collection of the poems of Lorenzo, printed by Aldo, in 1554, 
his sonnets are accompanied with a copious commentary, which exhibits many 
striking traits of his character, and is a very favourable specimen of his prose com¬ 
position. (v. Illustrations of the Life of Lor. de’ Medici, p. 146.) This commentary 
has not been reprinted; and the copies of this edition have long been of such rare 
occurrence in Italy, that even Cionacci, the editor of the sacred poems of Lorenzo, 
and of others of the Medici family, in 1680, had never been able to obtain a sight of 
the book. “ Di questi due,” says he, (adverting to the Selve d’ Amore, and the Libro 
di Rime, intitolato Poesie volgari) “ fa menzione il Poccianti, e il Valori, sopra citati; 
ma io non ho veduto se non ilprimo, stampato in ottavo.” (Cion. Osserv. 28.) This 
volume is entitled “ Poesie volgari, nuovamente stampate di Lorenzo de’ Medici, che 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


179 


1480 .] 

sition in ottava rima , and, though it extends to a consider¬ 
able length, deserves to be held at least in equal esteem 
with his sonnets and lyric productions. 42 The stanza in 
which it is written is the most favourite mode of versifi¬ 
cation amongst the Italians, and has been introduced with 
great success into the English language. It was first re¬ 
duced to its regular form by Boccaccio, who employed it in 
his heroic romances, the “ Theseide” and the “ Eilostrato;” 
but the poems of Ariosto and of Torquato Tasso have 
established it as the vehicle of epic composition. 43 These 
stanze were produced by Lorenzo at an early age, and are 

fu padre di papa Leone. Col commento del medesimo sopra alcuni de’ suoi sonetti. 
In Vinegia, m.d.lhii.” From the expression nuovamente stampate, we might infer, 
that these poems had before been printed; but I have,not been able to discover any 
trace of a former impression; and Apostolo Zeno, in his notes, on the “ Biblioteca Ita- 
liana” of Fontanini, vol. ii. p. 59. Ed. Ven.1753, expressly informs us that this is the 
only edition known, “ F unica edizione delle poesie del Magnifico.” A variation, how¬ 
ever, occurs in the copies: the sheet marked with the letter 0 having, in the greater 
part of the edition, been reduced from eight leaves to four, as appears by a defect in the 
numeration of the pages. This is generally understood to have arisen from the 
scrupulous delicacy of the printer, who, having discovered some indecent pieces, 
inserted from the “ Canzoni a Ballo,” cancelled the leaves in such copies as remained 
unsold, and hence the copies which contain the sheet 0 complete have, in the per¬ 
verse estimation of bibliographers and collectors, acquired an additional value. On 
an examination of the pieces thus omitted, I have, however, some doubts, whether 
the reason above assigned be the true motive for the caution of the printer; a caution 
which I conceive was rather occasioned by an apprehension of the censures of the 
inquisition, for his having unaccountably blended in the same poem some pious 
stanzas with others of a more terrestrial nature, intended for a different poem, with¬ 
out giving the reader due notice, by a proper separation or distinct title, of so unex¬ 
pected a change of sentiment. In consequence of which a poem on the resurrection 
of Christ is terminated by some stanzas that relate only to a mere mortal passion. 
The works of Lorenzo were reprinted, with the addition of several pieces, at Bergamo, 
in octavo, in 1763. 

42 This poem has been several times printed. The earliest edition which I have 
seen is “ Impresso in Pesaro per Hieronymo Soncino nel m.cccccxiii a di xv di 
Luglio,” under the title of “ Stanze bellissime et ornatissime intitulate le Selve 
d’ Amove composte dal Magnifico Lorenzo di Piero di Cosimo de’ Medici.” It was 
again printed by Matthio Pagan at Venice, in 1554, and is also inserted in the Aldine 
and Bergamo editions of his works. In the last-mentioned edition, it is, however, 
preceded by thirty stanze, which form a poem entirely distinct in its subject, though 
not inferior in merit; and the reader ought to commence the perusal of the “ Selve 
d’ Amore” at the thirty-first stanza, “ Dopo tanti sospiri e tanti omei.” 

43 Notwithstanding these illustrious authorities, it may perhaps be allowable to 
doubt, whether a series of stanzas be the most eligible mode of narrating an epic, or 
indeed any other extensive kind of poem. That it is not natural must be admitted; 
for naturally we do not apportion the expression of our sentiments into equal divi¬ 
sions ; and that which is not natural cannot in general long be pleasing. Hence the 
works of Ariosto, of Tasso, and of Spenser, labour under a disadvantage which it 
required all the vigour of genius to surmount; and this is the more to be regretted, 
as both the Italian and the English languages admit of compositions in blank verse, 
productive of every variety of harmony. 


180 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

undoubtedly the same of which Landino and Valori ex¬ 
pressed such warm approbation. The estimation in which 
they were held may be determined by the many imitations 
which have appeared from Benivieni, 44 Serafino d’Aquila, 45 
Politiano, 46 Lodovico Martelli, 47 and others; who seem to 
have contended with each other for superiority in a species 
of poetry which gives full scope to the imagination, and in 
which the author takes the liberty of expatiating on any 
subject, which he conceives to be likely to engage the 
attention and obtain the favour of his mistress. 

Among the poems of Lorenzo de’ Medici, which have 

poem of been preserved for three centuries in manuscript, 
“ Ambra.” j n the Laurentian library, and which are given to 
the public for the first time at the close of the present 
work, 48 is a beautiful Ovidian allegory, entitled “ Ambra,” 
being the name of a small island, formed by the river Ombrone, 
near Lorenzo’s villa at Poggio Cajano, the destruction of 
which is the subject of the poem. 49 This favourite spot he 
had improved and ornamented with great assiduity, and 
was extremely delighted with the retired situation and ro¬ 
mantic aspect of the place. 50 He was not, however, without 
apprehensions that the rapidity of the river might destroy 

44 “ I dilettevoli amori di messer Girolamo Benivieni, Fiorentino,” printed at Venice, 
by “ Nicolo d’ Aristotile di Ferrara, detto Zoppino, 1537,” with another poem entitled, 
“ Caccia bellissima del Reverendisslmo Egidio,” and several pieces of the count Matteo 
Bojardo. This piece of Benivieni is not printed in the general edition of his works, 
Ven. 1524. 

45 “ Strambotti di Serafino d’ Aquila.” This celebrated poet and improwisatore, “ A 
quo,” says Paolo Cortese, “ ita est verborum et cantuum conjunctio modulata nexa, 
ut nihil fieri posset modorum ratione dulcius,” was born in 1466, and died in 1500. 
(Tirab. Storia della Let. Ital. vol. vi. parte 2, p. 154.) His works have been frequently 
printed; but the edition most esteemed is that of Florence, by the Giunti, in 1516. 
Zeno has cited no less than sixteen editions of the works of Serafino, the latest of 
which is in the year 1550. Bibl. Ital. vol. i. p. 429. 

46 Some of these Stanze of Politiano were first published in the edition of his 
works by Comino, Padua 1765 ; but, being there left imperfect, I have given a com¬ 
plete copy in the Appendix, as they have been preserved in the Laurentian library, 
v. Band. Cat. Bib. Laur. vol. v. p. 51. App. No. XXV. 

47 “ Stanze in lode delle Donne,” printed in the works of this author. Flor. 1548. 

48 About a dozen copies of these poems were printed in the year 1791, chiefly for 
the purpose of regulating the text, which have since been distributed by the editor 
amongst his friends. This he thinks it necessary to mention, to prevent any misap¬ 
prehension on the part of those into whose hands such volume may chance to fall. 

49 v. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de* Medici, p. 130. 

50 “ Laurentius Medices—qui scilicit Ambram ipsam Cajanam, prasdium (ut ita 
dixerim) omniferum, quasi pro laxamento sibi delegit civilium laborum.” Pol. ad 
Laur. Tomabonum in Op. ap. Aid. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


181 


1480.] 

his improvements, which misfortune he endeavoured to pre¬ 
vent by every possible precaution; but his cares were in¬ 
effectual ; an inundation took place, and sweeping away his 
labours, left him no consolation but that of immortalizing 
his Ambra in the poem now alluded to . 61 The same 
stanza is employed by Lorenzo in his poem on hawking, 
now also first published under the title of “ La Poem G n 
Caccia col Falcone.” This piece is apparently hawking * 
founded on a real incident. The author here gives us a 
very circumstantial, and at the same time a very lively 
account of this once popular diversion, from the departure 
of the company in the morning, to their return in the heat 
of the day. The scene is most probably at Poggio Cajano, 
where he frequently partook of the diversions of hunting 
and of hawking, the latter of which he is said to have pre¬ 
ferred. In this poem, wherein the author has introduced many 
of his companions by name, the reader will find much native 
humour, and a striking picture of the manners of the times. 

Lorenzo has, however, occasionally assumed in his writ¬ 
ings a more serious character. His “ Altercazione,” Morai 
or poem explanatory of the Platonic philosophy, 
has before attracted our notice; but notwithstanding this 
attempt has great merit, and elucidates with some degree of 
poetical ornament a dry and difficult subject, it is much in¬ 
ferior to his moral poems, one of which in particular, ex¬ 
hibits a force of expression, a grandeur and elevation of 
sentiment, of which his predecessors had set him no example, 
and which perhaps none of his countrymen have since excelled. 
This piece, in which the author calls upon the faculties of 
his own mind to exert themselves to great and useful pur¬ 
poses, thus commences: 

Destati pigro ingegno da quel sonno, 

Che par che gli occhi tuoi d’ un vel ri copra, 

Onde veder la verita non ponno; 

Svegliati omai; contempla, ogni tua opra 
Quanto disutil sia, van a, e fallace, 

Poi che il desio alia ragione e sopra. 

51 This is not the only occasion on which Ambra has been celebrated in the lan¬ 
guage of poetry. Politiano has given the same title to his beautiful Latin poem 
devoted to the praises of Homer; in the close of which is a particular description of 
this favourite spot, which was at that time thought to be sufficiently secured against 
the turbulence of the flood. 


182 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 


Deh pensa, quanto falsamente piace, 

Onore, utilitate, ovver diletto, 

Ove per piu s’ afferma esser la pace; 

Pensa alia dignita del tuo intelletto, 

Non dato per seguir cosa mortale, 

Ma perche avessi il cielo per suo obietto. 

Sai per esperienza, quanto vale 

Quel, eh’ altri cbiama ben, dal ben piu scosto, 
Che 1’ oriente dall’ occidentale. 

Quella vaghezza, eh’ a gli occhi ha proposto 
Amor, e comincio ne’ teneri anni, 

D’ ogni tuo viver lieto t’ ha disposto. 

Brieve, fugace, falsa, e pien d’ affanni, 

Ornata in vista, ma e poi crudel mostro, 

Che tien lupi e delfin sotto i bei panni. 

Deh pensa, qual sarebbe il viver nostro, 

Se quel, che de’ tener la prima parte, 

Preso avesse il cammin, qual io t’ ho mostro, 

Pensa, se tanto tempo, ingegno, o arte, 

Avessi volto al pib giusto desio 
Ti potresti hor in pace consolarte. 

Se ver te fosse il tuo voler piu pio, 

Forse quel, che per te si brama, o spera, 
Conosceresti me’, s’ e buono o rio. 

Dell’ eta tua la verde primavera 

Hai consumata, e forse tal fia il resto, 

Fin che del vemo sia F ultima sera; 

Sotto falsa ombra, e sotto rio pretesto, 
Persuadendo a te, che gentilezza 
Che vien dal cuor, ha causato questo. 

Questi tristi legami oramai spezza: 

Leva dal collo tuo quella catena 
Ch’ avolto vi tenea falsa bellezza : 

E la vana speranza, che ti mena, 

Leva dal cuor, e fa il governo pigli 
Di te, la parte piu beha e serena: 

Et sottometta questa a’ suoi artigli 
Ogni disir al suo voler contrario, 

Con maggior forza, e con maggior consigli, 

Sicche sbattuto il suo tristo aversario, 

Non drizzi piu la venenosa cresta 


Rise from thy trance, my slumbering genius, rise, 
That shrouds from truth’s pure beam thy torpid eyes! 
Awake, and see, since reason gave the rein 
To low desire, thy every work how vain. 

Ah think how false that bliss the mind explores, 

In futile honours, or unbounded stores; 

How poor the bait that would thy steps decoy 
To sensual pleasure, and unmeaning joy. 

Rouse all thy powers, for better use designed, 

And know thy native dignity of mind; 

Not for low aims and mortal triumphs given, 

Its means exertion, and its object heaven. 

Hast thou not yet the difference understood, 

’Twixt empty pleasure, and substantial good ? 

Not more opposed, by all the wise confest, 

The rising orient from the farthest west. 



1480 .] 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


183 


Doom’d from thy youth the galling chain to prove 
Of potent beauty, and imperious love, 

Their tyrant rule has blighted all thy time, 

And marred the promise of thy early prime. 

Though beauty’s garb thy wondering gaze may win, 

Yet know that wolves, that harpies dwell within. 

Ah think, how fair thy better hopes had sped, 

Thy widely erring steps had reason led; 

Think, if thy time a nobler use had known, 

Ere this the glorious prize had been thine own. 

Kind to thyself, thy clear discerning will 
Had wisely learnt to sever good from ill. 

Thy spring-tide hours consumed in vain delight, 

Shall the same follies close thy wintry night ? 

With vain pretexts of beauty’s potent charms, 

And nature’s frailty, blunting reason’s arms ? 

—At length thy long-lost liberty regain, 

Tear the strong tie, and break the inglorious chain, 

Freed from false hopes, assume thy native powers, 

And give to Reason’s rule thy future hours ; 

To her dominion yield thy trusting soul, 

And bend thy wishes to her strong control; 

Till love, the serpent that destroyed thy rest, 

Crushed by her hand shall mourn his humbled crest. 

The sacred poems of Lorenzo de’ Medici, distinguished 
by the names of Orazioni , and Lauded have been several 
times printed in various ancient collections, from which they 
were selected and published (with others by different per¬ 
sons of the same family) by Cionacci at Florence, in the 
year 1680. 53 The authors of the other poems in this col¬ 
lection are, Lucretia the mother of Lorenzo, Pier Francesco 
his cousin, and Bernardo d’ Alamanni de 5 Medici; but the 
reputation of Lorenzo as a poet will not be much increased 
by our assigning to him a decided superiority over his 
kindred. The poems of Lorenzo need not, however, the 
equivocal approbation of comparative praise, as they possess 
a great degree of positive excellence. In the following 
beautiful and affecting address to the Deity, the sublimity 
of the Hebrew original is tempered with the softer notes of 
the Italian muse : 54 

52 Of the union of poetry and music in the “ Laude Spirituali,” or sacred songs, 
Dr. Burney has traced the origin in Italy, and has given a specimen of a hymn to 
the Trinity, with the music, so early as the year 1336, from the MS. which he had 
himself consulted in the Magliabechi library, v. Hist, of Music, vol. ii. p. 326. 

53 Rime sacre del Magnifico Lorenzo de’ Medici il Vecchio, di Madonna Lucrezia 
sua madre, e d’ altri della stessa famiglia. Raccolte e d’ osservazioni corredate per 
Francesco Cionacci. In Firenze, 1680. 

54 Since the above was written, I have discovered this hymn to be a paraphrase 
of “ The Secret Song, or Hymn of Regeneration,” in the “ Pymander” of Hermes 


184 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 


ORAZIONE. 

Oda il sacro inno tutta la natura, 

Oda la terra, e nubilosi e foschi 
Turbini, e piove, che fan 1’ aere oscura. 

Silenzj ombrosi, e solitariboschi: 

Posate venti: udite cieli il canto, 

Perche il creato il creator conoschi. 

Il creatore, e ’1 tutto, e F uno, io canto; 

Queste sacre orazion sieno esaudite 
Dell’ immortale Dio dal cerchio santo. 

Il Fattor canto, che ha distribuite 

Le terre, e T del bilancia; e quel che vuole, 

Che sien dell’ ocean dolci acque uscite 
Per nutrimento dell’ umana prole; 

Per quale ancor comanda, sopra splenda 
Il fuoco, e perche Dio adora e cole. 

Grazie ciascun con una voce renda 

A lui, che passa i ciel; qual vive e sente, 

Crea, e convien da lui natura prenda. 

Questo e solo e vero occhio della mente, 

Delle potenzie; a lui le laude date. 

Questo ricevera benignamente 
0 forze mie, costui solo laudate; 

Ogni virtu, dell’ alma questo nume 
Laudi, conforme alia mia voluntate. 

Santa e la cognizion, che del tuo lume 

Splende, e canta illustrato in allegrezza 
D’ intelligibil luce il mio acume. 

0 tutte mie potenzie, in gran dolcezza 
Meco cantate, o spirti miei costanti, 

Cantate la costante sua fermezza. 

La mia giustizia per me il giusto canti: 

Laudate meco il tutto insieme e intero, 

Gli spirti uniti, e' membri tutti quanti. 

Canti per me la veritate il vero, 

E tutto ’l nostro buon, canti esso bene, 

Ben, che appetisce ciascun desidero. 

0 vita, o luce, da voi in noi viene 
La benedizion; grazie t’ ho io, 

0 Dio, da cui potenzia ogn’ atto viene. 

Il vero tuo per me te lauda Dio; 

Per me ancor delle parole sante 
Riceve il mondo il sacrificio pio. 

Questo chieggon le forze mie clamante: 

Cantato il tutto, e cosi son perfette 
Da lor P alte tue voglie tutte quante. 

Trismegistus, who is said to have been the lawgiver of Egypt, and the inventor of hiero¬ 
glyphic writing, and to have lived sixteen centuries before Christ. In the Laurentian 
library (Plut. xxi. Cod. 8. v. Band. Cat. 1, 668,) is a translation of this work from 
the Greek by Ficino,bearing the date of 1463, and dedicated to Cosmo de’ Medici; 
from which Lorenzo undoubtedly translated, or imitated the ensuing poem. The 
translation hy Ficino also appears in his printed works, vol. ii. p. 789. Ed. Par. 1641. 
An English version of the same author, said to be from the Arabic, by Dr. Everard, 
was published at London by Thomas Brewster, 1657. I scarcely need to observe, 
that the authenticity of this work is doubtful, it being generally regarded as a pious 
fraud, produced about the second century of the Christian sera. 


1480 .] LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 185 

II tuo disio da te in te reflette; 

Ricevi il sacrificio, o santo Re, 

Delle parole pie da ciascun dette. 

0 vita, salvo tutto quel eh’ e in me; 

Le tenebre, ove 1’ alma par vanegge 
Luce illumina tu, che luce se\ 

Spirto Dio, il verbo tuo la mente regge, 

Opifice, che spirto a ciascun dai, 

Tu sol se’ Dio, onde ogni cosa ha legge. 

L’ uomo tuo questo chiama sempre mai; 

Per fuoco, aria, acqua e terra t’ ha pregato, 

Per lo spirto, e per quel che creato liai. 

Dali’ eterno ho benedizion trovato, 

E spero, come io son desideroso, 

Trovar nel tuo disio tranquillo stato; 

Fuor di te Dio, non e vero riposo. 


All nature, hear the sacred song! 

Attend, 0 earth, the solemn strain! 

Ye whirlwinds wild that sweep along : 

Ye darkening storms of heating rain; 

Umbrageous glooms, and forests drear; 

And solitary deserts, hear ! 

Be still, ye winds, whilst to the Maker’s praise 
The creature of His power aspires his voico to raise. 

O may the solemn breathing sound 
Like incense rise before the throne, 

Where He, whose glory knows no bound, 

Great cause of all things, dwells alone. 

’Tis He I sing, whose powerful hand, 

Balanced the skies, outspread the land; 

Who spoke—from ocean’s stores sweet waters came, 
And burst resplendent forth the heaven-aspiring flame. 

One general song of praise arise 
To Him whose goodness ceaseless flows; 

Who dwells enthroned beyond the skies, 

And life, and breath, on all bestows. 

Great source of intellect, His ear 
Benign receives our vows sincere: 

Rise then, my active powers, your task fulfil, 

And give to Him your praise, responsive to my will. 

Partaker of that living stream 
Of light, that pours an endless blaze, 

0 let thy strong reflected beam, 

My understanding, speak His praise: 

My soul, in stedfast love secure, 

Praise Him whose word is ever sure; 

To Him, sole just, my sense of right incline, 

Join every prostrate limb, my ardent spirit join. 

Let all of good this bosom fires, 

To Him, sole good, give praises due: 

Let all the truth Himself inspires, 

Unite to sing Him only true. 



186 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 


To Him my every thought ascend, 

To Him my hopes, my wishes, bend. 

From earth’s wide bounds let louder hymns arise, 

And His own word convey the pious sacrifice. 

In ardent adoration join’d, 

Obedient to Thy holy will, 

Let all my faculties combined, 

Thy just desires, 0 God, fulfil. 

From Thee derived, eternal king, 

To Thee our noblest powers we bring: 

O may Thy hand direct our wandering way, 

0 bid Thy light arise, and chase the clouds away. 

Eternal Spirit! whose command 
Light, life, and being, gave to all; 

O hear the creature of Thy hand, 

Man, constant on thy goodness call! 

By fire, by water, air, and earth, 

That soul to Thee that owes its birth, 

By these, he supplicates Thy blest repose, 

Absent from thee no rest his wandering spirit knows. 

The Italian language had not yet been applied to the 
The “ Beo- P llr P oses of satire, unless we may be allowed to 
m” of lo- apply that name to some parts of the “ Commedia” 
of Dante, or the unpublished poem of Burchiello 
before noticed. The “ Beoni” 55 of Lorenzo de’ Medici is 
perhaps the earliest production that properly ranks under this 
Rise of the title; the “ Canti Carnascialeschi,” or carnival 
jocose it a- songs, which we shall hereafter notice, and which are 
supposed by Bianchini to have set the first example 
of the jocose Italian satire, being a very different kind of 
composition. 56 This piece is also composed in terza rima, 

55 The “ Beoni,” or “ Simposio” of Lorenzo, was first published by the Giunti, at 
Florence, 1568, with the sonnets of Burchiello, Alamanni, and Risoluto; and was 
afterwards inserted in the third volume of the collection of the “ Opere Burlesche,” 
printed with the date of (London) 1723. In the former edition many of the objec¬ 
tionable passages are omitted, which are, however, restored in the latter. The editors 
of the poems of Lorenzo, published at Bergamo in 1763, have again mutilated this 
poem, having totally omitted the 8th capitolo, as “ mancante e licenziosoin all the 
editions the work is left imperfect, and ends in the midst of the 9th capitolo ; after 
which, in the edition of 1568, it is added, “ Dicon ch’ el magnifico Autore lascio 
1’ opera cosi imperfetta.” 

56 “ Or questi * Canti Carnascialeschi,’ fatti per intrattenere allegramente il popolo, 
io gli considero come non solamente primi ma grandi avanzamenti altresi della giocosa 
satira Italiana; a quali aggiugnere dobbiamo ‘ I Beoni, e La Compagnia del Mantel- 
laccio,’ componimenti dello stesso Lorenzo de’ Medici, i quali furono scritti da quel 
grand’ uomo per sollievo delle pubbliche gravose occupazioni, e dagli studj piu sub- 
limi delle scienze,” &c. (Bianchini, della Satira Italiana, p. 33. Ed. Fir. 1729.) 
“ La Compagnia del Mantellaccio” was not, however, written by Lorenzo, though it 
has frequently been attributed to him. In the earliest edition I have seen of this 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


187 


1480 .] 

and is a lively and severe reprehension of drunkenness. 
The author represents himself as returning, after a short 
absence, to Florence; when, as he approached towards the 
Porta di Faenza , he met many of his fellow-citizens hasten¬ 
ing along the road with the greatest precipitation. At length 
he had the good fortune to perceive an old acquaintance, to 
whom he gives the appellation of Bartolino, and whom he 
requests to explain to him the cause of this strange com¬ 
motion. 

Non altrimente a parete ugelletto, 

Sentendo d’ altri ugelli i dolci versi, 

Sendo in cammin, si volge a quell’ effetto ; 

Cos! lui, benche appena puo tenersi, 

Che li pareva al fermarsi fatica; 

Che e’ non s’ acquista in fretta i passa persi. 


—As when some bird a kindred note that hears, 

His well-known mate with note responsive cheers, 

He recognised my voice; and at the sound 
Relaxed his speed; but difficult he found 
The task to stop, and great fatigue it seemed, 

For whilst he spoke, each moment lost he deemed; 

Then thus: 

Bartolino informs him that they are all hastening to the 
bridge of Rifredi, to partake of a treat of excellent wine, 

-che presti facci i lenti piedi. 

That gives new vigour to the crippled feet. 

He then characterizes his numerous companions, who, 
although sufficiently discriminated in other respects, all 
agree in their insatiable thirst. Three priests at length 
make their appearance; Lorenzo inquires— 

Colui chi e, che ha rosse le gote ? 

E due con seco con lunghe mantella ? 

Ed ei: ciascun di loro e sacerdote; 

Quell ch’ e piu grasso, e il Piovan dell’ Antella, 

Perch’ e’ ti paja straccurato in viso, 

Ha sempre seco pur la metadella: 

L’ altro, che drieto vien con dolce riso, 

Con quel naso appuntato, lungo, e strano, 

Ha fatto anche del ber suo paradiso; 

Tien dignita, ch’ e pastor Fiesolano, 

Che ha in una sua tazza divozione. 

Che ser Anton seco ha, suo cappellano. 

poem, which is without a date, but was probably printed before the year 1500, it 
appears without the name of its author. A more complete copy is annexed to the 
sonetti of Burchiello, Alamanni, and Risoluto, by the Giunti, in 1568, where it is 
attributed to Lorenzo de’ Medici; but it is by no means possessed of those charac¬ 
teristic excellences that distinguish the generality of his works 




188 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 


Per ogni loco, e per ogni stagione, 

Sempre la fida tazza seco porta, 

Non ti dico altro, sino a processione : 

E credo questa fia sempre sua scorta, 
Quando lui mutera paese o corte, 

Questa sara che picchiera la porta : 
Questa sara con lui dopo la morte, 

E messa seco fia nel monimento, 

Accioche morto poi lo riconforte ; 

E questa lascera per testamento. 

Non hai tu visto a procession, quand’ elli 
Ch’ ognun si fermi, fa comandamento ? 

E i canonici chiama suoi fratelli; 

Tanto che tutti intorno li fan cerchio, 

E mentre lo ricuopron co’ mantelli, 

Lui con la tazza, al viso fa coperchio. 


With rosy cheeks who follows next, my friend, 

And who the gownmen that his steps attend ? 

—Three pious priests—the chief in size and place, 

Antella’s rector—shews his vacant face ; 

He who, with easy smile and pointed nose, 

In social converse with the rector goes, 

Of Fesule, a dignified divine, 

Has wisely placed his paradise in wine. 

The favourite cup that all his wants supplies, 

Within whose circle his devotion lies, 

His faithful curate, Ser Antonio, brings— 

See, at his side the goodly vessel swings. 

On all occasions, and where'er he bends 
His way, this implement its lord attends ; 

Or more officious, marches on before, 

Prepares his road, and tinkles at the door; 

This on his death-bed shall his thoughts employ, 

And with him in his monument shall he. 

Hast thou not seen—if e’er thou chanced to meet 
The slow procession moving through the street, 

As the superior issues his command, 

His sable brethren close around him stand : 

Then whilst in pious act with hands outspread, 

Each with his cassock shrouds his leader’s head, 

His face the toper covers with his cup, 

And, ere the prayer be ended, drinks it up. 

The fiery temperament of an habitual drunkard is de¬ 
scribed by the following whimsical hyperbole: 

Come fu giunto in terra quell' umore, 

Del fiero sputo, nell’ arido smalto, 

Unissi insieme 1’ umido e ’1 calore ; 

E poi quella virtu, che vien da alto, 

Li diede spirto, e nacquene un ranocchio, 

E inanzi a gli occhi nostri prese un salto. 

He sneezed : and as the burning humour fell, 

The dust with vital warmth began to swell, 

Hot, moist, and dry, their genial powers unite, 

Up sprang a frog, and leapt before our sight. 




LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


189 


1480.] 

So expeditious was Lorenzo in his compositions, that he 
is said to have mitten this piece nearly extempore, imme¬ 
diately after the incident on which it was founded took 
place. Posterity ought to regard this poem with particular 
favour, as it has led the way to some of the most agreeable 
and poignant productions of the Italian poets, and is one of 
the earliest models of the satires and capitoli of Berni , 57 
Nelli , 58 Ariosto , 59 Bentivoglio , 60 and others, who form a 
numerous class of writers, in a mode of composition almost 
peculiar to the natives of Italy. 

Italy has always been celebrated for the talents of its 
Improvvisatori , or extempore poets. Throughout Tuscany, 
in particular, this custom of reciting verses has for ages 
been the constant and most favourite amusement of the 
villagers and country inhabitants. At some times the sub¬ 
ject is a trial of wit between two peasants; on other occa¬ 
sions a lover addresses his mistress in a poetical oration, 
expressing his passion by such images as his uncultivated 
fancy suggests, and endeavouring to amuse and engage her 
by the liveliest sallies of humour. These recitations, in 


57 Francesco Berni, availing himself of the examples of Burchiello, Franco, Luigi 
Pulci, and Lorenzo de’ Medici, cultivated this branch of poetry with such success, 
as to have been generally considered as the inventor of it; whence it has obtained 
the name of Bernesche. The characteristic of this poetry is an extreme simplicity 
of provincial diction, which the Italians denominate Idiotismo. The most extrava¬ 
gant sentiments, the most severe strokes of satire, are expressed in a manner so 
natural and easy, that the author himself seems unconscious of the effect of his own 
work. Perhaps the only indication of a similar taste in this country appears in the 
writings of the facetious Peter Pindar ; hut with this distinction, that the wit of the 
Italians generally consists in giving a whimsical importance to subjects in them¬ 
selves ridiculous or contemptible, whilst that of our countryman is for the most part 
shewn in rendering things of importance ridiculous. The principal work of Berni 
is his “ Orlando Innamorato,” being the poem of Bojardo, newly versified, or rather 
travestied; in the third book and seventh chapter of which he has introduced, with¬ 
out much ceremony, some particulars of his ow r n history. 

58 The satires of Pietro Nelli were published under the name of Andrea da Bergamo. 
Ven. 1546, 1584. 

59 In the satires of Ariosto, the author has faithfully recorded his family circum¬ 
stances and connexions, the patronage with which he was honoured, and the morti¬ 
fications and disappointments which he from time to time experienced: whilst his 
independent spirit, and generons resentment of the oppressive mandates of his supe¬ 
riors, are exhibited in a lively and interesting style In the “ Orlando Furioso” w r e 
admire the poet; but in the satires of Ariosto, we are familiarized with and love the 
man. 

60 Ercole Bentivoglio w r as of the same family that for many years held the sove¬ 
reignty of Bologna. His satires do him infinite credit as a poet, and are scarcely 
inferior to those of Ariosto, his friend and contemporary. 


190 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

which the eclogues of Theocritus are realized, are delivered 
in a tone of voice between speaking and singing, and are 
accompanied with the constant motion of one hand, as if to 
measure the time and regulate the harmony; but they have 
an additional charm from the simplicity of the country 
dialect, which abounds with phrases highly natural and 
appropriate, though incompatible with the precision of a 
stanzecon- regular language, and forms what is called the 
tadinesehe. « Lingua Contadinesca ,” 61 of which specimens may 
be found in the writings of Boccaccio . 62 The idea of adapt¬ 
ing this language to poetry first occurred to Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, who, in his verses entitled “La Nencia da Barbe- 
rino ,” 63 has left a very pleasing specimen of it, full of lively 
imagery and rustic pleasantry. This piece no sooner ap¬ 
peared, than Luigi Pulci attempted to emulate it, in another 

61 Few attempts have been made in England to adapt the provincial idiom of the 
inhabitants to the language of poetry. Neither the “ Shepherd’s Calendar” of 
Spenser, nor the “ Pastorals” of Gay, possess that native simplicity, and close ad¬ 
herence to the manners and language of country life, which ought to form the basis 
of this kind of composition. Whether the dialect of Scotland be more favourable to 
attempts of this nature, or whether we are to seek for the cause in the character of 
the people, or the peculiar talents of the writers, certain it is, that the idiom of that 
country has been much more successfully employed in poetical composition, than 
that of any other part of these kingdoms, and that this practice may there be traced 
to a very early period. In later times, the beautiful dramatic poem of “ The Gen¬ 
tle Shepherd” has exhibited rusticity without vulgarity, and elegant sentiment with¬ 
out affectation. Like the heroes of Homer, the characters of this piece can engage 
in the humblest occupations without degradation. If to this production we add the 
beautiful and interesting poems of the Ayrshire ploughman, we may venture to assert, 
that neither in Italy nor in any other country has this species of poetry been culti¬ 
vated with greater success. “ The Cotter’s Saturday Night” is, perhaps, unrivalled 
in its kind in any language. 

62 “ Decam. Giorn.” viii. Nov. 2. Bentivegna del Mazzo being interrogated 
whither he went, replies, “ Gnaffe, Sere, in buona verita io vo infino a Citta per 
alcuna mia vicenda, e porto queste cose a Sere Bonacorri di Ginestreto, che m’ ajuti 
di non so che m’ ha fatto richiedere per una comparigione del parentorio per lo peri- 
colator suo il giudice del deficio.” That the ancient Romans had also a marked dis¬ 
tinction between the written tongue, and the dialeet of the country inhabitants, may 
be inferred from the following lines of Tibullus. Lib. ii. Eleg. 3. 

“ Ipsa Venus laetos jam nunc migravit in agros, 

Verbaque aratoris rustica discit amor.” 

63 Nencia is probably the rustic appellation of Lorenza or Lorenzina; thus from 
Lorenzo, in the same dialect, is formed Nencio and Renzo; and from the diminu¬ 
tive Lorenzino, Nencino, and Cencino. In this poem, the rustic Vallero also ad¬ 
dresses his mistress by the augmentative of Nenciozza. These variations are fre¬ 
quently used in the Florentine dialect to express the estimation in which the sub¬ 
ject of them is held: thus ino, and ina, denote a certain degree of affection and 
tenderness, similar to that which is felt for infants; whilst the augmentatives of 
ticcio, uccia, one , ona, usually imply ridicule or contempt. 


LORENZO De’ MEDICI. 


191 


1480.] 

poem, written in the same stanza, and called “ La Beca da 
Dicomano ;” 64 but instead of the more chastised and deli¬ 
cate humour of Lorenzo, the poem of Pulci partakes of 
the character of his “ Morgante,” and wanders into the 
burlesque and extravagant. In the following century, 
Michelagnolo Buonaroti, the nephew of the celebrated artist 
of the same name, employed this style with great success 
in his admirable rustic comedy, “ La Tancia :” 65 but per¬ 
haps the most beautiful instance that Italy has produced, 
is the work of Francesco Baldovini, who, towards the close 
of the seventeenth century, published his “ Lamento di 
Cecco da Yarlungo ;” 66 a piece of inimitable wit and sim¬ 
plicity, and which seems to have carried this species of 
poetry to its highest pitch of perfection. 

If, during the darkness of the middle ages, the drama, 
that great school of human life and manners, as 

, j? , , , . , , n i • State of the 

established among the ancients, was totally lost, it Italian dra- 
was not without a substitute in most of the nations 
of Europe, though of a very imperfect and degraded kind. 
To this factitious species of dramatic representation, which 
led the minds of the people from the imitation of the 
ancient Greeks and Romans, and closed their eyes to their 
excellences, we are probably to attribute the slow progress 
which, in the revival of letters, took place in this important 
department. Innumerable attempts have indeed been made 
to trace the origin of the modern drama, and the Italians, the 
Germans, the Spaniards, the French, and the English , 67 have 

64 Published with “ La Nencia,” in the “ Canzoni a Ballo.” Flor. 1568. 

65 The learned Anton Maria Salvini has given an excellent edition of this comedy, 
with another by the same author, entitled “ La Fiera.” Firenz. 1726. The annota¬ 
tions of Salvini upon these pieces are highly and deservedly esteemed. 

66 An elegant edition of this poem was published at Florence, in 1755, in quarto, 
with copious notes and illustrations by Orazio Marrini; in which the editor has, with 
great industry and learning, traced the history of rustic poetry, in Italy, from the time 
of Lorenzo de’ Medici, to whom he attributes the invention of it (Pref. p. 10,) to that 
of his author Baldovini; and has illustrated the text in the most judicious and satis¬ 
factory manner. 

67 Several of our most celebrated critics have warmly contended for the antiquity 
of the English stage, which they suppose may be traced higher than the Italian by 
150 years ; in proof of which is adduced the miracle-play of St. Catharine, said to be 
written by Geoffry, abbot of St. Albans, and performed at Dunstable, in the year 
1110. v. Malone’s Shakspeare, in Pref. Hence we might be led to conclude that 
this miracle-play was composed in dialogue; but there is reason to conjecture that the 
whole consisted of dumb show, and that the author’s only merit lay in the arrange- 


192 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

successively claimed priority of each other. But questions 
of this kind scarcely admit of decision. Imitation is natural 
to man in every state of society; and where shall we draw 
the line of distinction between the polished productions of 
Racine and the pantomimes of Bartholomew fair? This 
propensity to imitation, operating upon the religious or 
superstitious views of the clergy, produced at length that 
species of exhibition which was formerly known throughout 
Europe by the name of Mysteries ; but it is probable, that 
for a long time they were merely calculated to strike the 
eyes of the spectators. In the city of Elorence they were 
often prepared at the public expense, and at times by rich 
individuals, for the purpose of displaying their wealth, and 
conciliating the public favour. Eour days in the year were 
solemnly celebrated by the four districts of the city, in 
honour of their patron saints; but the feast of St. John, 
the tutelary saint of Elorence, was provided, not at the 
expense of the particular district which bore his name, but 
of the city at large. The fabrication of these spectacles 
employed the abilities of the best artists and engineers of 
the time . 68 

It was not, however, till the age of Lorenzo de’ Medici, 
that these ill-judged representations began to assume a 

ment of the incidents and machinery. Of the same nature were the grotesque exhi¬ 
bitions, well known in this country under the name of the Harrowing of Hell (Tyr- 
whitt’s Chaucer, vol. iv. p. 243,) and the representations at Florence, mentioned by 
Villani (lib. viii. c. 10,) and Ammirato (lib. iv.), who inform us, that in the year 1304, 
the inhabitants of the district of S. Borgo publicly proclaimed that they would give 
an insight into the next world to those who would attend upon the bridge of Carrara. 
A great number of people were accordingly collected, to witness a representation of 
the infernal regions, which was displayed in boats or rafts upon the river. In this 
spectacle the damned appeared to be tormented by demons in various forms, and 
with dreadful shrieks struck the spectators with terror: when, in the midst of the 
performance, the bridge, which was of wood, gave way, and the unfortunate attend¬ 
ants became the principal actors in the drama. The interludes preserved among the 
Harleian MSS. said to have been performed at Chester, in 1327, and adverted to by 
Mr. Malone, are manifestly antedated by nearly two centuries; nor do I conceive it 
possible to adduce a dramatic composition in the English language that can indis¬ 
putably be placed before the year 1500, previous to which time they were common 
in Italy; though possibly not so early as Mr. Malone allows, when he informs us, on 
the authority of the Histriomastix, that pope Pius II, about the year 1416, com¬ 
posed, and caused to be acted before him, on Corpus Christi day, a mystery, in which 
was represented the court of the kingdom of heaven. ./Eneas Sylvius, w r ho assumed 
that title, was not raised to the pontifical dignity till the year 1458. In the exten¬ 
sive catalogue of his writings by Apostolo Zeno (Dissert. Vos.) I find no notice of 
any such composition. 68 Vasari, di Cecca Ingegnere, e di Filippo Brunelleschi. 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


193 


1480.] 

more respectable form, and to be united with dialogue. 
One of the earliest examples of the sacred drama is the 
“ Rappresentazione of S. Giovanni e S. Paolo /' 69 by Lorenzo 
de’ Medici. Cionacci conjectures that this piece was written 
at the time of the marriage of Maddelena, one of the daugh¬ 
ters of Lorenzo, to Prancesco Cibo, nephew of Innocent VIII. 
and that it was performed by his own children; there being 
many passages which seem to be intended as precepts for 
such as are intrusted with the direction of a state, and 
which particularly point out the line of conduct which he 
and his ancestors had pursued, in obtaining and preserving 
their influence in Plorence. The coadjutors of Lorenzo, in 
this attempt to meliorate the imperfect state of the drama, 
were Feo Belcari, Bernardo Pulci and his wife Madonna 
Antonia de' Tanini . 70 That Lorenzo had it in contempla¬ 
tion to employ dramatic composition in other subjects is 
also apparent. Among his poems published at the end of 
the present work will be found an attempt to substitute the 
deities of Greece and Rome, for the saints and martyrs 
of the Christian church; but the jealous temper of the 
national religion seems for a time to have restrained the 
progress which might otherwise have been expected in this 
important department of letters. Some years after the 
death of Lorenzo, a more decided effort was made by 
Bernardo Accolti, in his drama of “ Virginia," founded on 
one of the novels of Boccaccio ; 71 and this again was fol¬ 
lowed, at a short interval, by the “ Sofonisba" of Trissino, 
and the “ Rosmunda" of Giovanni Rucellai; two pieces 
which are justly considered as the first regular productions 
of the drama in modern times. 


69 Of this piece I have two ancient editions without date ; one of which, printed at 
Florence by Francesco Bonacorsi, bears sufficient evidence of its having been pub¬ 
lished during the fife of the author. 

70 A considerable collection of the ancient editions of the “Rappresentazione” of 
the fifteenth century, printed without date, and formerly in the Pinelli library, has 
fallen into my hands. I may say of them, with Apostolo Zeno, “ trattone alquanti 
che hanno qualche suco di buon sapere, mescolato pero di agro e di spiacevole, son 
rancidumi ed inezie; cavate anche da legende apocrife, e da impure fonti, con basso e 
pedestre stile, e d’ arte prive, e di grazia poetica.” Annot. alia Bib. Ital. di Fontan. 
vol. i. p. 489. 

71 Decam. Gior. iii. Nov. 9. The argument of this piece isg iven by Accolti, in a 
sonnet prefixed to the edition of Flor. 1514. 


13 


194 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

The origin of the musical drama, or Italian opera, is by 
The musical general consent attributed to Politiano, who gave 
drama. f,} ie first example of it in his “ Orfeo.” The idea 
of this species of composition seems to have been first 
suggested by the Eclogues of the ancient Greek and 
Roman authors; nor does there appear to have been any 
extraordinary exertion of genius in adapting to music the 
sentiments and language of pastoral life; but it should be 
remembered, that the intrinsic merit of any discovery is to 
be judged of rather by the success with which it is attended, 
than by the difficulties that were to be surmounted. Of 
the plan and conduct of this dramatic attempt, a particular 
account has been given by a very judicious and amusing 
author . 72 Little, however, is to be expected in point of 
arrangement, when we understand that it was the hasty 
production of two days, and was intended merely for the 
gratification of Gonzaga, cardinal of Mantua, before whom 
it was first represented. Accordingly, its principal merit 
consists in the simplicity and elegance of some of the Lyric 
pieces with which it is interspersed. From the early edi¬ 
tions of this poem, it appears that the character of Orpheus 
was first exhibited by the celebrated Improvvisatore Baccio 
Ugolini, whose personal obligations to the cardinal occa¬ 
sioned the introduction of the beautiful Latin ode, in which, 
by a singular exertion of the quidlibet audendi , the Theban 
bard is introduced singing the praises of the cardinal, but 
which was afterwards superseded by the verses in praise of 
Hercules, generally found in the subsequent editions. 

In a dedicatory epistle prefixed to this piece, and ad¬ 
dressed to Carlo Carnale, the author, whilst he professes 
himself willing to comply with the wishes of some of his 
friends by its publication, openly protests against the pro¬ 
priety of such a measure. A species of conduct which, 
in modern times, might perhaps savour of affectation ; but 
of this we may safely acquit Politiano, who, in the midst of 
his learned labours, certainly regarded a slight composition 
in the vulgar tongue as much below his talents and his 
character. 

72 Vide Dr. Burney’s Gen. Hist, of Music, vol. iv. p. 14. 


1480.] LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 195 

During the time of carnival, it was customary to cele¬ 
brate that festival at Florence with extraordinary Ca nti c ar - 
magnificence. Among other amusements, it had nascialeschi - 
long been usual to collect together, at great expense, large 
processions of people, sometimes representing the return of 
triumphant warriors with trophies, cars, and similar devices; 
and at other times some story of ancient chivalry. These 
exhibitions afforded ample scope for the inventive talents of 
the Florentine artists, who contended with each other in 
rendering them amusing, extravagant, or terrific. The 
pageantry was generally displayed by night, as being the 
season best calculated to conceal the defects of the perform¬ 
ance, and to assist the fancy of the spectators. “ It was 
certainly/' says Vasari , 73 “ an extraordinary sight, to observe 
twenty or thirty couple of horsemen, most richly dressed in 
appropriate characters, with six or eight attendants upon 
each, habited in an uniform manner, and carrying torches 
to the amount of several hundreds, after whom usually fol¬ 
lowed a triumphal car with the trophies and spoils of 
victory"—of imaginary victories indeed, but not on that 
account less calculated to display the ingenuity of the in¬ 
ventor, or less pleasing in the estimation of the philosopher. 
The promised gaiety of the evening was sometimes unex¬ 
pectedly interrupted by a moral lesson, and the artist seized 
the opportunity of exciting those more serious emotions, 
which the astonished beholders had supposed it was his 
intention to dissipate. Thus Piero di Cosimo, a painter 
of Florence, appalled the inhabitants by a representation of 
the triumph of Death, in which nothing was omitted that 
might impress upon their minds the sense of their own 
mortality . 74 Prior, however, to the time of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, these exhibitions were calculated merely to amuse 
the eye, or were at most accompanied by the insipid madri¬ 
gals of the populace. It was he who first taught his coun¬ 
trymen to dignify them with sentiment, and add to their 


73 Vasari, Vita di Piero di Cosimo. 

74 Of this exhibition, which took place about the year 1512, Vasari has left a very 
particular account. (Vita di Piero di Cosimo.) The whole piece is published in the 
“ Canti Carnascialeschi,” p. 131. Ed. 1559* 


THE LIFE OF 


196 


[CH. V. 


poignancy oy the charms of poetry. It is true, the ex¬ 
amples which he has himself given of these compositions, 
in the “ Canti Carnascialeschi/’ or carnival songs, being 
calculated for the gratification of the multitude, and devoted 
only to the amusement of an evening, exhibit not any great 
energy of thought, nor are they distinguished by an equal 
degree of poetical ornament with his other works. Their 
merits are therefore principally to be estimated by the 
purity of the Florentine diction, which is allowed to be 
there preserved in its most unadulterated state. 75 The 
intervention and patronage of Lorenzo gave new spirit to 
these amusements. Induced by his example, many of his 
contemporaries employed their talents in these popular 
compositions, which were continued by a numerous suc¬ 
cession of writers, till the middle of the ensuing century, 
when they were diligently collected by Anton Francesco 
Grazzini, commonly called II lasca , and published at Flo¬ 
rence in the year 1559. 76 


75 These pieces, as well as the other poems of Lorenzo de’ Medici, are frequently 
cited by the academicians della Crusca in their celebrated Dictionary, as authorities 
for the Italian tongue ; and consequently compose a part of those works selected for 
the purity of their style, and known by the name of “ Testi di lingua.” 

76 This was not, however, the first edition of the “ Canti Carnascialeschi.” Zeno, 
in his notes on the “ Bibl. Ital.” of Fontanini, (vol. ii. p. 83,) has cited two editions 
printed without note of date or place, but prior, as he thought, to the year 1500; the 
first entitled “ Canzone per andare in Maschera,” the latter, “ Ballattette del Magni- 
fico Lorenzo de’ Medici, di M. Agnolo Poliziano, e di Bernardo Giamburlari.” The 
edition of 1559 is, however, the first general collection of these pieces, towards which 
a great number of the natives of Florence contributed. Of this edition the greater 
part of the copies are mutilated, having been deprived of 100 pages about the middle 
of the book; viz. from page 298 to page 398, in which space were contained the 
pieces of Battista dell’ Ottonajo, whose brother Paolo having remonstrated against 
their publication in a surreptitious manner, and in an inaccurate state, had sufficient 
influence with the government of Florence to obtain an order that the printer, 
Torrentino, should deliver up all the copies in his hands, which appeared to be 495 ; 
after a year’s litigation the poems of Ottonajo were ordered to be cut out from the 
book, and Paolo was left at liberty to publish another edition of them, which he 
accordingly did. This dispute gave rise to another contest during the present cen¬ 
tury, between the Canonico Biscioni, late librarian of the grand duke’s library at 
Florence, and Sig. Rinaldo Maria Bracci, who published at Pisa, under the date of 
Cosmopoli, 1750, a new edition of the “Canti Carnascialeschi,” in two volumes 
quarto, including those of Ottonajo, from the impression of his brother Paolo; in the 
introduction to which he justifies the decree that suppressed these pieces in the 
edition of 1559, contrary to the opinion of Biscioni, who considered it as severe and 
unjust. The dispute seems of little importance; but the result of it was unfavour¬ 
able to the modern editor, whose elegant and apparently correct edition of these 
poems has never obtained that credit amongst the literati of Italy, to which, on many 
accounts, it appears to be entitled. 


1480. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


197 


The “ Canzoni a Ballo” are compositions of a much more 
singular and inexplicable kind. From their deno- canzoni a 
mination it is probable, that they were sung by Ball °* 
companies of young people, in concert with the music to 
which they danced; and the measure of the verse appears 
to be so constructed as to fall in with the different move¬ 
ments and pauses. It may perhaps be thought that the 
extreme licentiousness of some of these pieces militates 
against such an idea, but in the state of manners in Italy 
at that period, this objection can have but little weight. In¬ 
deed, if we trace to its source this favourite amusement, we 
shall probably discover, that a dance is in fact only a figura¬ 
tive representation of the passion of love, exhibited with more 
or less delicacy according to the character and state of 
civilization of those who practise it. To improve its relish, 
and heighten its enjoyment, seems to have been the inten¬ 
tion of the “ Canzoni a Ballo.” From the known affability 
of Lorenzo de’ Medici, and the festivity of his disposition, 
as well as from other circumstances, 77 there is reason to con¬ 
clude, that he was accustomed to mingle with the populace 
on these mirthful occasions, and to promote and direct their 
amusements. Nor are we to wonder that the arbiter of the 
politics of Italy should be employed in the streets of Flo¬ 
rence, participating in the mirth, and directing the evolu¬ 
tions, of a troop of dancing girls. On the contrary, this 


77 In the edition of the “Canzoni a Ballo,” published at Florence, in 1568, the 
title-page is ornamented with a print in wood, representing twelve women dancing 
before the palace of the Medici, known by the arms affixed to it, and singing, as we 
may presume, a dancing song. Towards the front of the print appears Lorenzo de’ 
Medici; two females kneel before him, one of whom presents him with a garland 
taken from her head, of which he seems to decline the acceptance. Behind Lorenzo 
stands Agnolo Politiano, his associate in this work. This print seems to have a more 
particular reference to one of the songs written by Lorenzo, which became extremely 
popular by the name of “ Ben venga Maggio,” and which the reader will find in the 
Appendix, No. XXVI. In an ancient collection of “ Laude,” or hymns, printed at 
Venice, in 1512, I find that several of these devout pieces are directed to be sung to 
the air of “ Ben venga Maggio.” From this collection it appears it was then a general 
custom in Italy, as it now is, or lately was, the practice of a certain sect in this 
country, to sing pious hymns to the most profane and popular melodies, for the pur¬ 
pose of stimulating the languid piety of the performers, by an association with the 
vivacity of sensual enjoyment. Thus the hymn “ Jesu sommo diletto,” is sung to the 
music of “ Leggiadra damigella“ Jesu fammi morire,” to that of “ Vaga bella e 
gentile“ Genetrice di Dio,” to that of “ Dolce anima miaand “ Crucifisso a capo 
chino,” to that of “ Una Donna d’amor fjjio,” one of the most indecent pieces in the 
“ Canzoni a Ballo.” * 


198 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. V. 

versatility of talent and of disposition may be considered as 
the most distinguishing feature in the character of this ex¬ 
traordinary man; who, from the most important concerns 
of state, and the highest speculations of philosophy, could 
stoop to partake of the humblest diversions of the populace, 
and who in every department obtained, by general consent, 
the supreme direction and control. 

Thus far we have taken a review of the chief part of the 
poems which yet remain of Lorenzo de’ Medici, and have 
seen him, by his own example, stimulating his countrymen 
to the pursuit of literature. The restorer of the lyric poetry 
of Italy, the promoter of the dramatic, the founder of the 
satiric, rustic, and other modes of composition, he is not 
merely entitled to the rank of a poet, but may justly be 
placed among the distinguished few, who, by native strength, 
have made their way through paths before untrodden. Ta¬ 
lent may follow and improve; emulation and industry may 
polish and refine; but genius alone can break those bar¬ 
riers that restrain the throng of mankind in the common 
track of life. 

The poetical merits of Lorenzo de’ Medici were perceived 
critique of and acknowledged by his contemporaries. Were 
Pico of Mi- we to collect the various testimonies of respect 
the poems of and admiration that were produced m honour of 
Lorenzo. ]d m j n different parts of Italy, they would form a 
very unreasonable addition to the present volume. We 
must not, however, omit to notice the opinion of Pico of 
Mirandula, who, in a letter addressed to Lorenzo, has en¬ 
tered into a full discussion of the character of his writings, 
comparing them with those of his predecessors Dante and 
Petrarca, and contending that they unite the vigour of thought 
apparent in the former, with the harmony and polish of the 
latter. Succeeding critics have, however, appealed against 
a decision, which seems to attribute to Lorenzo de J Medici 
a superiority over the great masters of the Tuscan poetry ; 
and have considered the opinion of Pico either as an in¬ 
stance of courtly adulation, or as a proof of the yet imper¬ 
fect taste of the age . 78 Without contending for the opinion 

78 Varchi Ercolano, p. 27. Ed. Coin. 1744. 


1480.] LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 199 

of Pico in its full extent, we may be allowed to remark, 
that the temper and character both of him and of Lorenzo 
are equally adverse to the idea, that the one could offer, or 
the other be gratified with unmerited approbation and spu¬ 
rious praise; and that Pico was not deficient in the qualifi¬ 
cations of a critic may appear even from the very letter 
which has been cited as an impeachment of his taste. Por 
although he there treats the writings of Dante and 
Petrarca with great severity, and asserts not only the equa¬ 
lity, but, in a certain point of view, the superiority of those 
of Lorenzo, yet he clearly proves that he had attentively 
studied these productions, and by many acute and just ob¬ 
servations demonstrates, that he was well qualified to ap¬ 
preciate their various merits and defects. Nor does Pico, 
in avowing this opinion, stand alone amongst his country¬ 
men. Even in the most enlightened period of the ensuing 
century, the pretensions of Lorenzo de’ Medici to rank with 
the great fathers of the Italian tongue, are supported by an 
author whose testimony cannot be suspected of partiality, 
and whose authority will be acknowledged as generally as 
his writings are known . 79 The most celebrated hterary his¬ 
torians of Italy, in adverting to the age of Lorenzo, opinions of 
have acknowledged the vigour of his genius, and o^thTlame 
the success of his labours; Crescimbeni, in tracing sul) j ect - 
the vicissitudes of the Tuscan poetry, informs us, that it 
had risen to such perfection under the talents of Petrarca, 
that not being susceptible of farther improvement, it began, 
in the common course of earthly things, to decline; and in 
a short time was so debased and adulterated, as nearly to 
revert to its pristine barbarity. “ But at this critical 
juncture/’ says the same well-informed author , 80 “ a person 
arose who preserved it from ruin, and who snatched it from 
the dangerous precipice that seemed to await it. This was 
Lorenzo de’ Medici, from whose abilities it received that 
support of which it then stood so greatly in need; who, 
amidst the thickest gloom of that barbarism which had 
spread itself throughout Italy, exhibited, whilst yet a youth, 
a simplicity of style, a purity of language, a happiness of 

79 Castiglione II Cortegiano, lib. i. 80 Della volgar Poesia, vol. ii. p. 323. 


200 THE LIFE OF [CH. V. 

versification, a propriety of poetical ornament, and a fulness 
of sentiment that recalled once more the graces and the 
sweetness of Petrarca.” If, after paying due attention to 
these authorities, we consider, that the two great authors 
with whose excellences Lorenzo is supposed to contend, em¬ 
ployed their talents chiefly in one species of composition, 
whilst his were exercised in various departments; that 
during a long life, devoted to letters, they had leisure to 
correct, to polish, and to improve their works, so as to bear 
the inspection of critical minuteness, whilst those of Lorenzo 
must in general have been written with almost extempora¬ 
neous haste, and in some instances, scarcely perhaps ob¬ 
tained the advantages of a second revisal; we must be com¬ 
pelled to acknowledge, that the inferiority of his reputation 
as a poet has not arisen from a deficiency of genius, but 
must be attributed to the avocations of his public life, the 
multiplicity of his domestic concerns, the interference of 
other studies and amusements, and his untimely death . 81 
When therefore we estimate the number, the variety, and 
the excellence of his poetical works, it must be admitted, 
that if those talents, which, under so many obstacles and 
disadvantages, are still so conspicuous, had been directed to 
one object, and allowed to exert themselves to their full 
extent, it is in the highest degree probable, that, in point of 
poetic excellence, Italy had not boasted a more illustrious 
name than that of Lorenzo de’ Medici. 

In dismissing this subject, it may yet be allowed to point 
The poems ou t one tribute of respect to the poetical character 
of , u Lore j nzo of Lorenzo, which may serve at the same time to 
the Nutrida illustrate a passage m an author, who, though a 
of poutiano. moc [ ernj d eserves the appellation of classical. This 
will be found at the close of the “ Sylva” of Politiano, en¬ 
titled “ Nutricia,” which will scarcely be intelligible to the 
reader, without some previous acquaintance with the writ¬ 
ings of Lorenzo, as the author has there, in a small com¬ 
pass, particularly celebrated most of the productions of his 
patron’s pen. 


81 Murat, della Perfetta Poesia Ital. vol. i. p. 20. 


1489 .] 


LORENZO De’ MEDICI. 


201 


Nec tamen Aligerum fraudarim hoc munere Dantem 
Per Styga, per Stellas, mediique per ardua montis 
Pulchra Beatricis sub virginis ora volantem. 

Quique cupidineum repetit Petrarcha triumphum. 
Et qui bis quinis centum argumenta diebus 
Pingit, et obscuri qui semina monstrat amoris: 

Unde tibi immensae veniunt praeconia laudis, 

Ingeniis, opibusque potens, Florentia mater. 

Tu vero aeternum per avi vestigia Cosmi, 

Perque patris (quis enim pietate insignior illo ?) 

Ad famam eluctans, cujus securus ad umbram 
Fulmina bellorum ridens procul aspicit Arnus. 

Maeoniae caput, 0 Laurens, quern plena senatu 
Curia, quemque gravi populus stupet ore loquentem, 

Si fas est, tua nunc humili patere otia cantu, 
Secessusque sacros avidas me ferre sub auras. 

Namque importunas mulcentem pectine curas, 
Umbrosae recolo te quondam vallis in antrum 
Monticolam traxisse deam; vidi ipse corollas 
Nexantem, numerosque tuos prona aure bibentem : 
Yiderunt socii pariter, seu grata Dianae 
Nympha fuit, quamquam nullae sonuere pharetrae: 

Seu soror Aonidum, et nostrae tunc hospita sylvae. 


Nor Alighieri, shall thy praise be lost, 

Who from the confines of the Stygian coast, 

As Beatrice led thy willing steps along, 

To realms of light, and starry mansions sprung; 

Nor Petrarch thou, whose soul dissolving strains, 
Rehearse, 0 love ! thy triumphs and thy pains; 

Nor he, whose hundred tales the means impart, 

To wind the secret snare around the heart, 

Be these thy boast, 0 Florence! these thy pride, 

Thy sons ! whose genius spreads thy glory wide. 

And thou, Lorenzo, rushing forth to fame, 

Support of Cosmo’s and of Piero’s name ! 

Safe in whose shadow Arno hears from far, 

And smiles to hear the thunder of the war; 

Endow’d with arts the listening throng to move, 

The senate’s wonder, and the people’s love, 

Chief of the tuneful train! thy praises hear, 

—If praise of mine can charm thy cultured ear; 

For once, the lonely woods and vales among, 

A mountain goddess caught thy soothing song, 

As swelled the notes, she pierced the winding dell, 
And sat beside thee in thy secret cell; 

I saw her hands the laurel chaplet twine, 

Whilst with attentive ear she drank the sounds divine. 
Whether the nymph to Dian’s train allied, 

—But sure no quiver rattled at her side; 

Or from th’ Aonian mount, a stranger guest, 

She chose awhile in these green woods to rest. 


-V 


202 


THE LIFE OF 


[CII. V. 


Ilia tibi, lauruque tua, semperque recenti 
Flore comam cingens, pulchrum inspiravit amorem, 
Mox et Apollineis audentem opponere nervis 
Pana leves calamos nemoris sub rape Pheraei, 

Carmine dum celebras, 82 eadem tibi virgo vocanti 
Astitit, et sanctos nec opina afflavit nonores. 

Ergo et nocticanum per te Galatea Corinthum 83 
Jam non dura videt: nam quis flagrantia nescit 
Vota, Cupidineoque ardentes signe querelas ? 

Seu tibi Phoebeis audax concurrere flammis 84 
Claro Stella die, seu lutea flore sequaci 
Infelix Clytie, 85 seu mentem semper oberrans 
Forma subit dominae, 86 seu pulchrae gaudia mortis, 87 
Atque pium tacto jurantem pectore amorem, 88 
Atque oculos canis, 89 atque manus, 90 niveisque capillos 
Infusos humeris, 91 et verba, 92 et lene sonantis 
Murmur aquae, 93 violaeque comas, 94 blandumque soporem. 
Laetaque quam dulcis suspiria fundat amaror ; 95 


Through all thy frame while softer passions breathe, 
Around thy brows she bound the laureat wreathe; 
—And still—as other themes engaged thy song, 

She with unrivall’d sweetness touch’d thy tongue; 
To tell the contest on Thessalia’s plains, 

When Pan with Phoebus tried alternate strains, 82 
Or Galatea, who no more shall slight 
Corynthus’ song, that soothes the ear of night. 83 
—But who shall all thy varying strains disclose, 

As sportive fancy prompts, or passion glows ? 

When to thine aid thou call’st the solar beams, 

And all their dazzling lustre round thee flames, 84 
Or sing’st of Clytie, sunward still inclined; 85 
Or the dear nymph whose image fills thy mind; 86 
Of dreams of love, and love’s extremest joy ; 87 
Of vows of truth and endless constancy; 88 
Or of those eyes a thousand flames that dart;" 

That hand that binds in willing chains thy heart ; 9 ° 
The tresses o’er those ivory shoulders thrown ; 91 
The secret promise made to thee alone ; 92 
The stream’s soft murmur, 93 and the violet’s glow, 94 
And love’s embitter’d joys and rapturous woe : 95 


82 Capitolo del Canto di Pan, a dramatic pastoral. 

83 The address of the shepherd Corynthus to Galatea commencing, 

“ La luna in mezzo alle minori stelle.” 

84 Sonetto 66. “ 0 chiara Stella che co’ raggi tuoi.” 

85 Sonetto 67. “ Quando il sol giu dall’ oriente scende.” 

86 Sonetto 103. “ Lasso, or la bella donna mia che face?” 

87 Sonetto 86. “ 0 veramente felice e beata Notte.” 

“ Amorosi sospir, e quali uscite.” 

“ Ove Madonna volge gli occhi begli.” 

“ O man mia soavissima e decora.” 

“ Spesso mi torna a mente anzi giammai.” 

“ Madonna io veggo ne’ vostri occhi belli.” 

“ Chiar’ acque i sento del vostro mormorio.” 

“ Belle fresche e purpuree viole.” 

Or perhaps 114. “ Non di verdi giardin ornati e colti.” 

95 Sonetto 39. “ Io son si certo amor di tua incertezza.” 


Sonetto 99. 
Sonetto 88. 
Sonetto 78. 
Sonetto 73. 
Sonetto 91. 
Sonetto 75. 
94 Sonetto 80. 




1480 .] 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


203 


Quantum addat formse pietas, 96 quam saepe decenter 
Palleat, utque tuum foveat cor pectore Nymphe. 97 
Non vacat argutosque sales, Satyraque Bibaces 
Descriptos memorare senes : 98 non carmina festis 
Excipienda clioris, querulasve animantia chordas." 
Idem etiara tacitae referens pastoria vitae 
Otia, 100 et urbanos thyrso extimulante labores; 

Mox fugis in coelum, non ceu per lubrica nisus, 
Extremamque boni gaudes contingere metam. 101 
Quodque alii studiumque vocant, durumque laborem, 
Hie tibi ludus erit: fessus civilibus actis, 

Hue is emeritas acuens ad carmina vires 
Felix ingenio, felix cui pectore tantas 
Instaurare vices, cui fas tarn magna capaci 
Alternare animo, et varias ita nectere curas. 


How pity adds to beauty’s brightest charms ; 96 
And how thy bosom beats with soft alarms; 97 
Nor wants there sprightly satire’s vivid beam, 
Whose lustre lights th’ inebriate fools to fame ; 98 
Nor coral songs, whose animating sound 
Provokes the smile, and bids the dance go round, 99 
—Then free from babbling crowds, and city noise, 
Thou sing’st the pleasures rural life enjoys; 100 
Or with no faltering step, pursuest thy way, 

To touch the confines of celestial day. 101 
—These the delights thy happiest moments share, 
Thy dearest lenitives of public care: 

Blest in thy genius; thy capacious mind 
Nor to one science, nor one theme confined, 

By grateful interchange fatigue beguiles, 

In private studies and in public toils. 


96 Sonetto 56. “ Talhor mi prega dolcemente amore.” 

97 Sonetto 141. “ Dura memoria, perche non ti spegni.” 

98 The Beoni, or satire against drunkenness. 99 Canzoni a Ballo. 

100 Altercazione, or a dialogue between a shepherd and a citizen. 101 Rime sacre, &c. 



Antique Gem relating to th_e Canti Camascialeschi 












Medal of Lorenzo in refeTen.ee to rioxenc 


CHAPTER VI. 


1481—1488. 

Lorenzo endeavours to secure the peace of Italy—Rise of the modem idea of the 
balance of power—Conspiracy of Frescobaldi—Expulsion of the Turks from 
Otranto—The Venetians and the pope attack the duke of Ferrara—Lorenzo un¬ 
dertakes his defence—The Florentines and Neapolitans ravage the papal territories 
—The duke of Calabria defeated by Roberto Malat°sta—Progress of the Venetian 
arms—Sixtus deserts and excommunicates his allies—Congress of Cremona — 
Death of Sixtus IV.—Succeeded by Giambattista Cibo, who assumes the name of 
Innocent VIII. — Lorenzo gains the confidence of the new pope—The Florentines 
attempt to recover the town of Sarzana—Capture of Pietra Santa—Lorenzo 
retires to the baths of S. Filippo—The pope forms the design of possessing himself 
of the kingdom of Naples—Lorenzo supports the king—Prevails upon the Floren¬ 
tines to take a decided part—Effects a reconciliation between the king and the 
pope—Suppresses the insurrection at Osimo—Capture of Sarzana—Lorenzo pro¬ 
tects the smaller states of Italy — The king of Naples infringes his treaty with the 
pope—Peace again restored—Review of the government of Florence—Regulations 
introduced by Lorenzo—Prosperity of the Florentine state—High reputation of 
Lorenzo—General tranquillity of Italy. 


Soon after the termination of hostilities between Sixtus IV. 
Lorenzo en- an d fh e republic of Elorence, Lorenzo began to 
deavours to unfold those comprehensive plans for securing the 
peaeeofitaiy. peace of Italy on a permanent foundation which 
J> A D ' 1481 ‘ confer the highest honour on his political life. Of 
the extensive authority which he had obtained by his late 
conduct, every day afforded additional proof; and it appears 
to have been his intention to employ it for the wisest and 
most salutary purposes. By whatever motives he was led 
to this great attempt, he pursued it with deep policy and 





LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


1481.] 


205 


unceasing assiduity, and finally experienced a degree of 
success equal to his warmest expectations. 

The situation of Italy at this period afforded an ample 
0 field for the exercise of political talents. The nuin- Rise of the 
ber of independent states of which it was com- modern 
posed, the inequality of their strength, the ambitious Lceofpow- 
views of some, and the ever active fears of others, er * 
kept the whole country in continual agitation and alarm. 
The vicinity of these states to each other, and the narrow 
bounds of their respective dominions, required a prompti¬ 
tude of decision in cases of disagreement unexampled in any 
subsequent period of modern history. Where the event of 
open war seemed doubtful, private treachery was without 
scruple resorted to; and where that failed of success, an 
appeal was again made to arms. The pontifical see had 
itself set the example of a mode of conduct that burst 
asunder all the bonds of society, and served as a convincing 
proof thai/nothing was thought unlawful which appeared to 
be expedient.,' To counterpoise all the jarring interests of 
these different governments, to restrain the powerful, to 
succour the weak, and to unite the whole in one firm body, 
so as to enable them, on the one hand, successfully to op¬ 
pose the formidable power of the Turks, and, on the other, 
to repel the incursions of the Trench and the Germans, 
both of whom were objects of terror to the less warlike 
inhabitants of Italy, were the important ends which Lorenzo 
proposed to accomplish. The effectual defence of the Flo¬ 
rentine dominions against the encroachments of their more 
powerful neighbours, though perhaps his chief inducement 
for engaging in so extensive a project, appeared in the 
execution of it rather as a necessary part of his system, 0 
than as the principal object which he had in view. In 
these transactions we may trace the first decisive instance 
of that political arrangement which was more fully developed 
and more widely extended in the succeeding century, and 
which has since been denominated the balance of power. 1 
Casual alliances, arising from consanguinity, from personal 
attachment, from vicinity, or from interest, had indeed fre- 

1 v. Illustrations of the life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 149. 


206 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VI. 

quently subsisted among the Italian states; but these were 
only partial and temporary engagements, and rather tended 
to divide the country into two or more powerful parties, 
than to counterpoise the interests of individual governments, 
so as to produce in the result the general tranquillity. 2 

But before Lorenzo engaged in these momentous under¬ 
takings, he had further personal dangers to encounter. The 
moderation of his conduct could neither extinguish nor allay 
the insatiable spirit of revenge that burnt in the breast of 
Girolamo Riario. Defeated in his ambitious pro- Conspiracy 
jects by the superior talents of Lorenzo, he once of Fresco- 
more had recourse to his treacherous practices^ 
and, by an intercourse with some of the Florentine exiles, 
again found, even in Florence, the instruments of his pur¬ 
pose. By their instigation Battista Frescobaldi, with only 
two assistants, undertook to assassinate Lorenzo in the 
church of the Carmeli, on the day of Ascension, being the 
last day of May 1481. This attempt was not conducted 

2 It is commonly understood that the idea of a systematic arrangement, for secur¬ 
ing to states, within the same sphere of political action, the possession of their 
respective territories, and the continuance of existing rights, is of modern origin, 
having arisen among the Italian states in the fifteenth century. (Robertson’s Hist, 
of Cha. V. vol. i. sec. 3.) But Mr. Hume has attempted to shew that this system, 
if not theoretically understood, was at least practically adopted by the ancient states 
of Greece and the neighbouring governments. (Essays, vol. i. part ii. Essay 7.) In 
adjusting the extent to which these opinions may be adopted, there is no great diffi¬ 
culty. Wherever mankind have formed themselves into societies, (and history affords 
no instance of their being found in any other state,) the conduct of a tribe, or a 
nation, has been marked by a general will; and states, like individuals, have had 
their antipathies and predilections, their jealousies and their fears. The powerful 
have endeavoured to oppress the weak, and the weak have sought refuge from the 
powerful in their mutual union. Notwithstanding the great degree of civilization 
that obtained among the Grecian states, their political conduct seems to have been 
directed upon no higher principle; conquests were pursued as opportunity offered, 
and precautions for safety were delayed till the hour of danger arrived. The pre¬ 
ponderating mass of the Roman republic attracted into its vortex whatever was 
opposed to its influence: and the violent commotions of the middle ages, by which 
that immense body was again broken into new forms, and impelled in vague and eccen¬ 
tric directions, postponed to a late period the possibility of regulated action. The 
transactions in Italy, during the fourteenth and fifteenth century, bear indeed a strong 
resemblance to those which took place among the Grecian states; but it was not till 
nearly the close of the latter century, that a system of general security and pacification 
was clearly developed, and precautions taken for insuring its continuance. Simple as 
this idea may now appear, yet it must be considered that, before the adoption of 
it, the minds of men, and consequently the maxims of states, must have undergone an 
important change: views of aggrandizement were to be repressed; war was to be pro¬ 
secuted, not for the purpose of conquest, but of security; and, above all, an eye 
was to be found that could discern, and a mind that could comprehend, so extended 
an object. 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


207 


1481.] 

with the same secrecy as that which we have before related. O 
The friends of Lorenzo were watchful for his safety. Fres- 
cobaldi was seized; and having upon his examination dis¬ 
closed his accomplices, was executed with them on the 6th ° 
day of the following month. 3 The treachery of Frescobaldi 
occasioned at Florence general surprise, and was almost 
regarded as an instance of insanity. He had been the 
consul of the Florentine republic at Pera, and it was at 
his instance that Bandini, the murderer of Giuliano, had 
been delivered up by Mahomet II. Yet neither the atro¬ 
ciousness of the crime, nor the dread of the example, 
deterred him from a similar enterprise. From this circum¬ 
stance Lorenzo perceived the necessity of being more dili¬ 
gently on his guard against the attempts of his profligate 
antagonists; and whilst he lamented the depravity of the 
times, that rendered such a precaution necessary, he was 
generally surrounded, when he appeared in public, by a 
number of tried friends and adherents. In this respect he 
has not, however, escaped censure, although from a quarter 
where it should have been silenced by the sense of decency, 
if not by the feelings of gratitude. The kindness shewn 
by him to Raffaello Maffei, the brother of Antonio, who in 
the conspiracy of the Pazzi had undertaken to be the imme¬ 
diate instrument of his destruction, has before been noticed. 4 
In return for such unmerited attention, this historian has 
availed himself of a measure which was rendered necessary 
by repeated instances of treachery, to represent Lorenzo as 
a gloomy tyrant, who supported his authority, and secured 
his safety in Florence, by the aid of a band of ruflians, and 
who found in music alone a solace from his anxiety. 5 The 
reputation of Lorenzo is not, however, likely to suffer more 
from the pen of one brother, than his person did from the 
dagger of the other. 

On the conclusion of the contest with the papal see, the 
first object, not. only of Lorenzo, but of all the Expulsion 
Italian potentates, was the expulsion of the Turks e 

from Otranto. For this purpose a league was con- t0 - 

3 The other conspirators were Filippo Balducci, and Amoretto, the illegitimate 
son of Guido Baldovinette. (v. Ammir. lib. 25.) 

4 P. 132. 5 Ralph. Volt. Com. Urb. p. 153. 


208 THE LIFE OF [CH. VI. 

eluded, to which the Venetians only refused to accede. 
Suspicions had already been entertained that Mahomet II. 
had been incited to his enterprise by the representations of 
that state; and these suspicions were strengthened by the 
indifference which the Venetians manifested on so alarming 
an occasion. It is, however, probable, that they kept aloof 
from the contest, merely for the purpose of availing them¬ 
selves of any opportunity of aggrandizement which the 
exhausted situation of the neighbouring states might afford. 
With the powers of Italy, the kings of Arragon, of Portugal, 
and of Hungary, united their arms. The city of Otranto 
was attacked by a formidable army under the command of 
the duke of Calabria; whilst the united fleets of the king 
of Naples, the pope, and the Genoese, were stationed to 
prevent the arrival of further aid to the besieged. The 
place was, however, defended with great courage, and the 
event yet remained doubtful, when intelligence was received 
of the death of the emperor Mahomet II. who had estab¬ 
lished the seat of the Turkish empire at Constantinople, 
and been the scourge of Christendom for nearly half a cen¬ 
tury. Upon his death a disagreement arose between his 
two sons Bajazet and Zizim; in consequence of which the 
Turkish troops destined to the relief of Otranto were re¬ 
called, and the place was left to its fate. A capitulation 
was concluded on the tenth day of September, 1481, by 
which the Turks stipulated for a free return to their native 
country; but the duke of Calabria, on the surrender of the 
city, found a pretext for eluding the treaty, and retained as 
prisoners about fifteen hundred Turks, whom he afterwards 
employed in the different wars in which he was engaged. 6 

Whilst the other states of Italy were thus engaged in the 
The vene- common cause, the Venetians had been devising 
n <5 Attack means f° r possessing themselves of the dominions 
the duke of of Ercole d’Este, duke of Eerrara, and, by the 
assistance of Girolamo Riario, had prevailed upon 
the pope to countenance their pretensions. The duke had 
married the daughter of Ferdinand, king of Naples; an 


6 Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 537. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


209 


1481.] 

alliance which, as it contributed to his credit and independ¬ 
ence, had given great dissatisfaction to the Venetians. The 
first aggression was the erection of a fortress by those 
haughty republicans, on a part of the territory of Ferrara 
which they pretended was within the limits of their own 
dominions. An embassy was immediately despatched by 
the duke to Venice, to avert, if possible, the hostile inten¬ 
tions of the senate, and to conciliate their good-will by the 
fairest representations, and the fullest professions of amity. 
Finding his efforts ineffectual, he resorted for succour to 
the pope; but Sixtus was already apprized of the part he 
had to act, and whilst he heard his solicitations with appa¬ 
rent indifference, was secretly preparing to join in his ruin. 
The motives by which Sixtus was actuated are not difficult 
to be discovered. If the family of Este could be deprived 
of their dominions, many circumstances concurred to justify 
the pretensions of the papal see to the sovereignty of 
Ferrara, That city was itself ranked among those over 
which the pontiffs asserted a signorial claim, which lay 
dormant, or was revived, as circumstances required; and 
although Sixtus could not singly contend with the Vene¬ 
tians in the division of the spoil, yet he well knew that the 
rest of Italy would interpose, to prevent their possessing 
themselves of a territory which would add so considerably 
to their power. In the contest, therefore, which he sup¬ 
posed must necessarily take place, Sixtus was not without 
hopes of vesting the government of Ferrara in his own 
family, in the person of Girolamo Riario, who was inde¬ 
fatigable in preparing for the approaching war. 

In this exigency, the duke of Ferrara had two powerful 
resources. One of these was in the support which Lorenzoun _ 
he derived from his father-in-law the king of dertakes his 
Naples ; and the other in the claims which he had 
upon the known justice of Lorenzo de’ Medici. Neither 
of these disappointed his hopes. By the interference of 
Lorenzo, the duke of Milan joined in the league; and the 
marquis of Mantua, and Giovanni Bentivoglio, also became 
auxiliaries in the cause. The command of the allied army 
was intrusted to Federigo, duke of Urbino; but the prepa- 

14 


210 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VI. 

ration and direction of the war chiefly rested on Lorenzo 
de’ Medici, on whose activity and prudence the allied 
powers had the most perfect reliance. 7 

The first object of the allies was to discover the intentions 
The Fioren- of the pope. No sooner had the Venetians corn- 
tines and Ne- me nced their attack on the territory of Ferrara, 
vage the P a- than a formal request was made to bixtus, to per¬ 
ries. tcrnto ’ mit the duke of Calabria, with a body of Neapo- 
a.d. 1482. ]jt ail troops, to pass through his dominions. His 
refusal sufficiently discovered the motives by which he was 
actuated. The duke immediately entered in a hostile 
manner the territories of the church, and having possessed 
himself of Terracina, Trevi, and other places, proceeded 
without interruption till he arrived within forty miles of 
Rome. At the same time the Florentine troops attacked 
and captured Castello, which was restored to Nicolo Vitelli, 
its former lord. By these unexpected and vigorous mea¬ 
sures, Sixtus, instead of joining the Venetians, was com¬ 
pelled to solicit their assistance for his own protection. 
The duke had approached so near to Rome, that his ad¬ 
vanced parties daily committed hostilities at the very gates 
of the city. In this emergency, the pope had the good 
fortune to prevail upon Roberto Malatesta, lord of Rimini, 
to take upon him the command of his army. This cele¬ 
brated leader, who was then in the pay of the Venetians, 
on obtaining their permission to assist their ally, proceeded 
to Rome. Having there made the necessary arrangements, 
Roberto led out the papal troops, which were sufficiently 
numerous, and were only in need of an able general effec¬ 
tually to oppose their enemies. The duke of Calabria, 
being in daily expectation of a reinforcement under the 
command of his brother Federigo, would gladly have 
f) avoided an engagement, but his adversary pressed him so 
vigorously, that he was compelled either to risk the event 
of a battle, or to incur the still greater danger of a dis¬ 
orderly retreat. This engagement, we are assured by 

7 Fabroni has preserved a letter from the duke of Urhino to Lorenzo de’ Medici, 
which sufficiently shows the confidence that was reposed in him by the allies, and the 
active part which he took in preparing for the contest. 


1482.1 


LORENZO DE J1EDICI. 


211 


Machiavelli, was the most obstinate and bloody that had 0 
occurred in Italy during the space of fifty years. 8 T heduke 
After a struggle of six hours, the contest termi- ^ fe ^ d abr b ia 
nated in the total defeat of the duke, who owed Roberto Ma- 
his liberty, or his life, to the fidelity and courage latesta ' 
of his Turkish followers. Having thus delivered the pope 
from the imminent danger that threatened him, Roberto 
returned to Rome to enjoy the honours of his victory; but 
his triumph was of short duration, for a few days after his 
arrival he suddenly died, not without giving rise to a sus¬ 
picion that poison had been administered to him by the 
intervention of Girolamo Riario. 9 This suspicion received 
confirmation in the public opinion, by the subsequent con¬ 
duct of Sixtus and his kinsman. No sooner was Roberto 
dead, than the pope erected an equestrian statue to his 
memory; and Riario proceeded with the army which 
Roberto had lately led to victory, to dispossess his illegiti¬ 
mate son Pandolfo, to whom he had bequeathed his posses¬ 
sions, of the city of Rimini. 10 In this attempt the ecclesi¬ 
astical plunderers would probably have been successful, had 
not the vigorous interference of Lorenzo de’ Medici, to 
whom Pandolfo resorted for succour, and who sent a body 
of Florentine troops to his speedy relief, frustrated their 
profligate purpose. Riario then turned his arms towards 
Castello, which was courageously defended by Vitelli, till 
the Florentines once more gave him effectual aid. A similar 
attack, and with similar success, was about the same time 
made by Sixtus on the city of Pesaro, the dominion of 
Constantino Sforza; who having first engaged in the league 
against the Venetians, afterwards deserted his allies, and 
entered into their service, and was supposed to have died 
of grief because they had defrauded him of his stipulated 

pay- 11 

Whilst Sixtus was thus employed in defending his own 
dominions, or in attempting to seize upon those of Progress of 
his neighbours, the duke of Urbino had opposed the Venetian 
himself to the Venetian army, but not with suffi- arms * 


8 Mac. Hist. lib. 8. 
10 Mac. Hist. lib. 8. 


9 Ammir. lib. 25. 

11 Fontius in Annal. ap. Fabr. vol. ii. p. 235. 


212 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VI. 


cient effect to prevent its making an alarming progress, 
and capturing several towns in the territory of Ferrara. The 
death of that general , 12 and the sickness of the duke of 
Ferrara, which rendered him incapable of attending with 
vigour to the defence of his dominions, opened to the 
Venetians the fullest prospect of success. This sudden 
progress of the republican arms was not, however, agree¬ 
able to the pope; who having given no aid in the contest, 
began to be apprehensive that he could claim no share in 
the spoil, whilst so considerable an accession of power to 
the Venetians might scarcely be consistent with his own 
safety. At the same time he perceived a storm gathering 
against him from another quarter. The emperor had threat¬ 
ened to call together a general council of the church; a 
measure either originating with, or promoted by Lorenzo 
de’ Medici; and for the effecting of which he had de¬ 
spatched Baccio Ugolino to Basil . 13 Induced by these 
various considerations, Sixtus was at length prevailed upon 
to detach himself from the Venetians, and to listen to pro- 
sixtusde- positions for a separate peace. Under the sanc- 
d tion of the imperial ambassador, a league was con- 
ai- eluded at Rome for five years, between the pope, 
the king of Naples, the duke of Milan, and the 
Florentines, for the defence of the duke of Ferrara. Sixtus, 
having engaged in the common cause, was not inactive. 
Having first warned the Venetians to desist from the 
further progress of the war, and finding his remon¬ 
strances disregarded, he solemnly excommunicated his late 
allies . 14 The Venetians, however, persisted in their pur¬ 
pose, regardless of his denunciations, and having captured 
the town of Ficarola, laid siege to the city of Ferrara 
itself. 


serts and 
excommuni 
cates his 
lies. 


12 The duke of Urbino and Roberto Malatesta died on the same day; one at Bologna, 
the other at Rome; each of them, although at the head of adverse armies, having 
recommended to the other the protection of his possessions and surviving family. 
Diario Allegretti, ap. Fabr. vol. ii. p. 245. 

13 Ugolino transmitted to Lorenzo, from time to time, a full account of his proceed¬ 
ings, in several letters which are published by Fabroni, (in Vita Laur. vol. ii. p. 227 ;) 
from which it appears, that he was not without hopes of accomplishing his important 
object. 

14 Fabr. in Vita Laur. adnot. et monum. vol. ii. p. 234. 


1483.] LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 213 

At this important juncture a congress was held at Cre¬ 
mona, for the purpose of considering on the most congress of 
effectual means of repressing the growing power Cremona * 
of the Venetians, and of securing the rest of Italy from the 
effects of their ambition. The persons who assembled on 
this occasion were Alfonso duke of Calabria, Lodovico 
Sforza, Lorenzo de 5 Medici, Lodovico Gonzaga marquis of 
Mantua, the duke of Ferrara; and on the part of the pope, 
Girolamo Riario, and the cardinal of Mantua, with others of 
inferior note. The king of France, aware of the character 
of Riario, advised Lorenzo by letter not to trust himself to 
this interview ; 15 but the important consequences expected 
from it induced him to disregard the precaution. Among 
other arrangements it was determined that the Milanese 
should endeavour to form a diversion by an attack on the 
Venetian territory, and that the duke of Calabria should 
repair with a powerful body of troops to the relief of the 
duke of Ferrara. By these decisive measures, a speedy and 
effectual stop was put to the further progress of the Vene¬ 
tian arms, whilst the allied troops over-ran the territories of 
Bergamo, of Brescia, and Verona. Finding their attempt 
to subjugate the city of Ferrara frustrated, and solicitous 
for the safety of their own dominions, the Venetians a d us3 
had recourse to negotiation, and had sufficient in¬ 
fluence with Lodovico Sforza to prevail upon him to desert 
the common cause. His dereliction induced the allies to 
accede to propositions for peace, which, though sufficiently 
favourable to the Venetians, secured the duke of Ferrara 
from the ambition of his powerful neighbours, and repressed 
that spirit of encroachment which the Venetians had mani¬ 
fested, as well on this as on former occasions. 

As soon as the affairs of Italy were so adjusted as to give 
the first indications of permanent tranquillity, Sixtus Deat h 0 f 
died. The coincidence of these events gave rise Sixtus IV - 

13 Thus he addresses Lorenzo in a letter dated xiii. Kal. Febr. 1482, (ap. Fabr. 
adnot. et mon. vol. ii. p. 243.) “ Alla Giornata di Ferrara dove dite avere promesso 

andare, vi avrei consigliato non andasse punto, raa che guardaste bene tener sicura 
vostra persona ; perche non conosco ne i personaggi ne il luogo, dove v’ habbiate a 
trovare, e v’ avrei mandato uno imbasciatore di qua in vostra excusatione; nienti- 
dimanco, poiche 1’ avete promesso, me ne reporto a voi; et alia buona hora sia, et 


214 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VI. 

to an opinion, which was rendered in some degree credible by 
the knowledge of his restless disposition, that his death was 
occasioned by vexation at the prospect of a general peace. 16 
Of the character of this successor of St. Peter, we have al¬ 
ready had sufficient proof. It must, indeed, be acknow¬ 
ledged, that no age has exhibited such flagrant instances of 
the depravity of the Roman see, as the close of the fifteenth 
century, when the profligacy of Sixtus IV. led the way, at a 
short interval, to the still more outrageous and unnatural 
crimes of Alexander VI. The avarice of Sixtus was equal 
to his ambition. He was the first Roman pontiff who 
^ openly exposed to sale the principal offices of the church; 
but not satisfied with the disposal of such as became vacant, 
he instituted new ones, for the avowed purpose of selling 
them, and thereby contrived to obtain a certain emolument 
from the uncertain tenure by which he held his see. To 
Sixtus IV. posterity are also indebted for the institution of 
inquisitors of the press, without whose licence no work was 
suffered to be printed. In this, indeed, he gave an instance 
of his prudence; it being extremely consistent, that those 
who are conscious of their own misconduct, should endea¬ 
vour to stifle the voice that publishes and perpetuates it. 
Even the orthodox Muratori acknowledges, that this pontiff 
had a heavy account to make up at the tribunal of God. 17 

The death of Sixtus IV. who for the space of thirteen 
succeeded by years had embroiled the states of Italy in constant 
cib^^who dissensions, was a favourable omen of the continu- 
assumes the ance of tranquillity; and the choice made by the 
nocent VIII. conclave of his successor seemed still further to se- 
a.d. 1484. cure g0 desirable an object. Giambattista Cibo, 
who obtained on this occasion the suffrages of the sacred 
college, was a Genoese by birth, though of Greek extrac¬ 
tion. The urbanity and mildness of his manners formed 
a striking contrast to the inflexible character of his prede¬ 
cessor. Prom his envoys at Rome, Lorenzo became early 
0 acquainted with the disposition of the new pope, who as- 

16 He died on the 12th of August, 1484, being the fifth day after peace was pro¬ 
claimed at Rome. (Murat. Ann. vol. ix. pp. 546, 549.) “ O perche fusse il termine 

di sua vita venuto, o perche il dolore della pace fatta, come nemica a quella, 1’ amaz- 
zasse.” Mac. Hist. lib. 8. 17 Annal. vol. ix. p. 538. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


215 


1484 .] 

sumed the name of Innocent VIII. At the time of his ele¬ 
vation to the supremacy, he was about fifty-five years of age, 
and had several natural children. Vespucci, the corre¬ 
spondent of Lorenzo, represents him as a weak but well-dis¬ 
posed man, rather formed to be directed himself than capa¬ 
ble of directing others. 

Lorenzo had perceived the disadvantages under which he 
laboured in his political transactions, on account of Lorenzo 
his dissensions with the papal see; and he, there- 
fore, learnt with great satisfaction, that the pope, new pope- 
soon after his elevation, had expressed a very favourable 
opinion of him, and had even avowed an intention of con¬ 
sulting him on all important occurrences. The power of 
the other Italian potentates was bounded by the limits of 
their respective dominions; but Lorenzo was well aware 
that the Roman pontiff superadded to his temporal posses¬ 
sions an influence that extended throughout all Christendom, 
and which might be found of the utmost importance to the 
promotion of his views. He, therefore, sedulously im¬ 
proved the occasion which the favourable opinion of Inno¬ 
cent afforded him; and in a short time obtained his confi¬ 
dence to such a degree, as to be intrusted with his most 
secret transactions and most important concerns. 18 This 
fortunate event also first opened to the Medici the dignities 
and emoluments of the church, and thereby led the way to 
that eminent degree of splendour and prosperity which the 
family afterwards experienced. 

To the carrying into effect the pacific intentions of Lorenzo, 
several obstacles yet remained. During the com- TheF i orei) . 
motions in Italy, consequent on the conspiracy of tines attempt 
the Pazzi, the town of barzana, situated near the town of s ar - 
boundaries of the Genoese and Florentine domi¬ 
nions, and which the Florentines had purchased from 
Lodovico Fregoso, had been forcibly wrested from them by 
Agostino, one of his sons. The important contests in which 
the Florentines were engaged had for some time prevented 
them from attempting the recovery of a place, to which, ac¬ 
cording to the established custom of the times, they had 

18 Fabroni in Vita, vol. ii p. 263. 


216 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VI. 

undoubted pretensions; but no sooner were they relieved 
from the anxiety and expense of external war, than they 
bent their whole attention to this object. In order to se¬ 
cure himself against the expected attack, Agostino had made 
a formal surrender of the town to the republic of Genoa, 
under which he professed to exercise the government. 
Lorenzo therefore entertained hopes, that, by the mediation 
of the new pope, his countrymen the Genoese might be in¬ 
duced to resign their pretensions; but his interference 
having proved ineffectual, the Florentines prepared to 
establish their right by arms. The approach to Sarzana 
necessarily lay by the town of Pietra-Santa, the inhabitants 
of which were expected to remain neuter during the con- 

capture of test; but a detachment of Florentine troops, es- 
Pietra-Santa. cor ti n g a quantity of provisions and ammunition, 
passing near that place, were attacked and plundered by 
the garrison. 19 So unequivocal a demonstration of hostility 
rendered it necessary for the Florentines, before they pro¬ 
ceeded to the attack of Sarzana, to possess themselves of 
Pietra-Santa. It was accordingly invested, and such ar¬ 
tillery as was then in use was employed to reduce the inha¬ 
bitants to submission. The Genoese, however, found means 
to reinforce the garrison, whilst the sickness of some of the 
Florentine leaders, and the inactivity of others, contributed 
to protract the siege. Dispirited by resistance, the count of 
Pitigliano, one of the Florentine generals, ventured even to 
recommend to the magistrates of Florence the relinquish¬ 
ment of the enterprise as impracticable, at least for that 
season. These representations, instead of altering the pur¬ 
pose of Lorenzo, only excited him to more vigorous exer¬ 
tion ; by his recommendation, the command of the Flo- 

19 Machiavelli, pleased in relating instances of that crooked policy in which he is 
supposed to have been himself an adept, informs us, that the Florentines, wanting a 
pretext for a rupture with the inhabitants of Pietra-Santa, directed a part of their 
t> a gg a ge to pass near that place, for the purpose of inducing the garrison to make an 
attack upon it. (Hist. lib. $.) And Fabroni, on what authority it is not easy to dis¬ 
cover, expressly attributes this artifice to Lorenzo de’ Medici, (in Vita Laur. vol. i. p. 
127.) But Ammirato, whose veracity is undoubted, asserts that this incident took 
hace without any premeditated design on the part of the Florentines, introducing 
tis narrative with a direct censure of the relation of Machiavelli: “ Hor voile pih 
olsto il caso, che artificio alcuno, il quale v il Machiavelli accattando,” &c. 1st. 
Fior. lib. 25. 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


217 


1485 .] 

rentine troops was given to Bernardo del Nero, and soon 
afterwards Lorenzo joined the army in person. His pre¬ 
sence and exhortations had the most powerful effect on his 
countrymen. Within the space of a few days after his 
arrival, the besiegers reduced the place to such extremity, 
that proposals were made for a capitulation, which were 
acceded to by Lorenzo; and the town was received into the 
protection of the Florentine republic, without further moles¬ 
tation to the inhabitants. 20 

From Pietra-Santa, it was the intention of Lorenzo, not¬ 
withstanding the advanced season of the year, to Lorenzo re- 
have proceeded immediately to the attack of Sar- baths 
zana; but the long and unhealthy service in which Fili pp°- 
the army had been engaged, rendered a temporary cessa¬ 
tion of hostilities indispensable. Several of the principal 
commanders, together with Antonio Pucci, one of the Flo¬ 
rentine commissioners to the army, had fallen victims to the 
fatigues of the war; and Lorenzo, who laboured under a 
chronic, and perhaps an hereditary complaint, was soon 
afterwards obliged to resort to the baths of S. Filippo for 
relief. Before he recovered his health, his attention was 
called towards a different quarter, in which all his exertions 
became necessary to preserve his pacific system from total 
destruction. 

This commotion originated in the turbulent designs of 
Sixtus IV. who had sown the seeds of it in his life- The P o P e 
time, although they did not spring up till after his s^ToVVos- 
death. The Neapolitan nobility, exasperated with 2 in ^ f hi t ^ 
the princes of the house of Aragon, who had en- kingdom of 
deavoured to abridge their power and independence, 1 ! P d! s i 485. 
were prepared, whenever occasion offered, to attempt the 
recovery of their rights. In restraining the exorbitant 
power of the nobles, which was equally formidable to the 
king and oppressive to the people, Ferdinand might have 
been justified by the expediency of the measure, and pro¬ 
tected by the affections of his subjects; but, in relieving 
them from the exactions of others, he began to oppress 
them himself and thus incautiously incurred that odium 

20 Ammir. 1st. Fior. lib. 25. 


218 THE LIFE OF [CH. VI. 

which had before been exclusively bestowed upon his no¬ 
bility. The spirit of disaffection that soon became appa¬ 
rent was not unobserved by Sixtus, who, in addition to the 
ambitious motives by which he was generally actuated, felt 
no small degree of resentment against Ferdinand, for hav¬ 
ing, without his concurrence, concluded a peace with the 
Florentines. A secret intercourse was carried on between 
the pope and the Neapolitan barons, whose resentment was 
ready to burst out in an open flame when Sixtus died. This 
event retarded but did not defeat the execution of their 
purpose. No sooner was Innocent seated in the chair than 
they began to renew with him the intercourse which they had 
carried on with his predecessor. They reminded him that the 
kingdom of Naples was itself a fief of the Roman see; they 
represented the exhausted state of the king’s finances, and 
the aversion which he had incurred from his subjects, as well 
by his own severity, as by the cruelties exercised in his name 
by the duke of Calabria; and exhorted him to engage in an 
attempt, the success of which was evident, and would crown 
his pontificate with glory. 21 The pacific temper of Inno¬ 
cent was dazzled with the splendour of such an acquisition. 
He encouraged the nobility to proceed in their designs; he 
raised a considerable army, the command of which he gave 
to Roberto Sanseverino; several of the principal cities of 
Naples openly revolted, and the standard of the pope was 
erected at Salerno. On the first indication of hostilities, 
the king had sent his son John, who had obtained the dig¬ 
nity of a cardinal, to Rome, for the purpose of inducing the 
pope to relinquish his attempt; but the death of the cardi¬ 
nal blasted the hopes, and added to the distresses of his 
father. 22 Attacked at the same time by foreign and domestic 
enemies, Ferdinand saw no shelter from the storm, but in 
the authority and assistance of Lorenzo. The attachment 
that subsisted between him and the pope was indeed known 
to Ferdinand; but he had himself some claims upon his 

21 Valor, in Vita Laur. p. 51. 

22 His death was attributed to poison, given to him by Antonello Sanseverino, 
prince of Salerno. (Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 542.) The frequency of these imputa¬ 
tions, though perhaps not always founded on fact, strongly marks the character of 
the age. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


219 


1485 .] 

kindness, and had reason to believe that he could not re¬ 
gard with indifference an attempt which, if successful, 
would effect a total change in the political state of Italy. 
Lorenzo did not hesitate on the part it became him Lorcnzo 
to act. No sooner was he apprized of the dan- supports the 
gerous situation of Ferdinand, than he left the king ‘ 
baths of S. Filippo, and hastened to Florence, where, on 
his first interview with the envoy of the king, he gave him 
the most unequivocal assurances of active interference and 
support. Lorenzo, however, saw the necessity of applying 
an effectual remedy to the increasing evil, and with a degree 
of freedom which the urgency of the occasion required, en¬ 
treated the king to relax in his severity towards his subjects. 
“ It grieves me to the soul,” thus he writes to Albino, the 
Neapolitan envoy, “ that the duke of Calabria should have 
acquired, even undeservedly, the imputation of cruelty. 
At all events, he ought to endeavour to remove every pre¬ 
text for the accusation, by the most cautious regard to his 
conduct. If the people be displeased with the late impo¬ 
sitions, it would be advisable to abolish them, and to require 
only the usual payments; for one carlino obtained with 
good will and affection, is better than ten accompanied with 
dissatisfaction and resentment.” He afterwards remon¬ 
strates with the king, through the same channel, on his 
harsh and imprudent conduct to some merchants, who it 
appears had been dismissed from Naples, for having de¬ 
manded from him the monies which they had advanced for 
his use. “ If the king satisfy them not,” says he, “ by 
paying their demands, he ought at least to appease them by 
good words; to the end that he may not afford them an 
opportunity of treating his name with disrespect, and of 
gaining credit at the same time to what is, and to what is 
not true.” The reply of Ferdinand to Albino is sufficiently 
expressive of the respect which he paid to these admoni¬ 
tions ; 23 but unfortunately, the precepts which he approved 
in theory, he forgot to adopt in practice ; and to the neglect 

23 In reference to this letter of Lorenzo, which may be found in the Appendix, 
No. XXVII. the king replies to Albino, “ Lo consiglio de detto Mag. Lorenzo, che 
abbiamo li occhi ad tutto, e mostramo in alcuna cosa non intendere, &c. ci e stato 
gratissimo, per essere prudentissimo e sapientissimo.” 


220 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VI. 

of these counsels, rather than to the courage or the conduct 
of Charles VIII. the subsequent expulsion of his family 
from the kingdom of Naples is unquestionably to be re¬ 
ferred. 

The authority of Lorenzo de’ Medici in Florence was not 
prevails up. the authority of despotism, but that of reason; and 
y ™ £ e fio- ^ therefore became necessary, that the measures 
take a de- which he might adopt should meet with the appro- 
aded part. 0 f the citizens at large. He accordingly, 

without delay, called together the principal inhabitants, but 
had the mortification to find, that the proposition which he 
laid before them, to afford assistance to the king, was re¬ 
ceived by his hearers with general disapprobation ; some ex¬ 
claiming against him, as being too precipitate in involving 
the republic in dangerous and expensive wars ; whilst others 
condemned the freedom with which he opposed the Roman 
pontiff, and subjected himself and his fellow-citizens to 
those ecclesiastical censures, the ill effects of which they 
had so recently experienced. On this occasion, Lorenzo 
was reminded, that the Venetians would probably unite 
with the pope in subjugating the kingdom of Naples; in 
which case, the intervention of the Florentines would only 
involve them in the same ruin that threatened the Neapoli¬ 
tan state. The solicitations and remonstrances of his fel¬ 
low-citizens shook not the purpose of Lorenzo. Through 
the thick mist of popular fears and prejudices, he distinctly 
saw the beacon of the public welfare ; and the arguments 
of his adversaries had already been anticipated and refuted 
in his own mind. That eloquence which he possessed in 
so eminent a degree was never more successfully exerted; 
and the reasons that had determined his own judgment were 
laid before his audience in a manner so impressive, as to 
overpower all opposition, and induce them unanimously to 
concur in his opinion. “ This oration/' says Valori, “ as 
committed to writing by some of his hearers, I have myself 
O perused; and it is not possible to conceive any composition 
more copious, more elegant, or more convincing.” 24 

The situation of Ferdinand became every day more criti- 

24 Valor, in Vita Laur. p. 53. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


221 


1485.J 

cal. A general defection of his nobility took place. The 
two brothers of the family of the Coppula, one of whom 
was his prime counsellor, and the other the treasurer of the 
kingdom, held a treacherous correspondence with his ene¬ 
mies ; and the duke of Calabria, who had advanced towards 
Home, to prevent a junction of the pontifical troops with 
those of the insurgents, was totally defeated by Sanseverino, 
and obliged to fly for protection into the territories of Flo¬ 
rence. It was matter of gratification to some, and of sur¬ 
prise to all, that th$ very man who, by his sanguinary and 
tyrannical disposition, had a short time before spread terror 
through the whole extent of Tuscany, should now appear as 
a fugitive at Montepulciano, imploring the assistance of the 
Florentines, and waiting the arrival of Lorenzo de’ Medici; 
who, being prevented by sickness from complying with his 
expectations, despatched two of the principal citizens to 
assure the duke of the attachment of the Florentines to the 
house of Aragon, and of their determination to exert them¬ 
selves to the utmost in its defence. 

The military force of the republic, which seldom ex¬ 
ceeded five thousand men, would have rendered Effectsare . 
small service in the contest, and it therefore be- conciliation 
came necessary to resort to other expedients. By king an” the 
the pecuniary assistance of the Florentines, the pope * 
duke of Calabria was again enabled to take the field, and 
at their instance several eminent leaders of Italy engaged in 
service of the king. The influence that Lorenzo possessed 
with Lodovico Sforza was successfully exerted to engage the 
states of Milan in the same cause. The powerful Roman 
family of the Orsini was induced not only to discountenance 
the enterprise of the pope, but to appear openly in arms 
against him; and Innocent began to dread that the confla¬ 
gration which he had excited, or encouraged, in the king¬ 
dom of Naples, might extend to his own dominions. At 
the same time Lorenzo de’ Medici, having still maintained 
an uninterrupted intercourse with the pope, assailed him 
with those arguments which he knew were best calculated 
to produce their effect. He represented the evils and dis¬ 
grace that must arise to all Christendom, from the frequent 


222 


THE LIFE OP 


[CH. VI. 

example set by the head of the church, of appealing on all 
occasions to the sword. He pointed out the improbability 
that the northern powers of Italy would permit the Roman 
see to annex to its dominions, either directly or indirectly, 
so extensive a territory as the kingdom of Naples; and 
earnestly exhorted the pope not to waste his resources, dis¬ 
turb his tranquillity, and endanger his safety, in a conflict 
which, at best, could only terminate in substituting to the 
house of Aragon some of those fortunate adventurers who 
had led the armies employed in its expulsion. Whether the 
appearances of hostility operated on the fears, or the reason¬ 
ing of Lorenzo on the judgment of the pope, may remain 
in doubt; but the ardour with which he engaged in the 
conflict gradually abated, and Sanseverino was left to avail 
himself of his own courage, and that of the troops under 
his command, without receiving either orders to retire or 
supplies to enable him to proceed. The languor that be¬ 
came apparent between the contending sovereigns seemed 
to have communicated itself to their armies; which having- 
met on the 8th day of May, 1486, an encounter took place, 
in which Ammirato not only acknowledges, that not a sol¬ 
dier was slain, but that he had found no memorial that even 
one of the combatants was wounded, though the contest 
continued for many hours, and only terminated with the 
day. 25 In this harmless trial of muscular strength, Sanse¬ 
verino and his followers were, however, forced oft* the field, 
and the consequences were as decisive as if the contest had 
been of the most sanguinary kind; for the king, availing 
himself of this circumstance, and apprized by Lorenzo of 
the favourable alteration in the temper of the pope, lost no 
time in laying before him such propositions for the accom¬ 
modation of their dispute, as afforded him an opportunity 
of declining it with credit to himself, and apparent safety 
A D 1486 to his Neapolitan confederates. By the conditions 
of this treaty, the king acknowledged the jurisdic¬ 
tion of the apostolic see, and agreed to pay to the pope a 
stipulated subsidy. Besides which, he engaged to pardon, 


M Ammir. 1st. Fior. lib. xxv. p. 174. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


223 


I486.] 

freely and unconditionally, the nobles who had revolted 
against him. 

The oppressive conduct of the Italian sovereigns, or the 
restless disposition of their subjects, seldom ad- Suppresses 
mitted of a long continuance of tranquillity; ^ction“ SU at 
and as Lorenzo had acquired a reputation for im- ^im¬ 
partiality and moderation, the dissensions that occasionally 
arose were generally submitted to his decision. The political 
contentions in which the pope was engaged, displayed indeed 
an ample field for the exercise of his talents. Important as 
the favour of the Roman see might be to the success of his 
labours, it was not preserved without an unremitting atten¬ 
tion to its interests. In the year 1486, Boccolino Guzzoni, 
a citizen of Osimo, a part of the papal territories, incited Q 
the inhabitants to revolt. The cardinal Giuliano della 
Rovere, afterwards Julius II. was despatched by the pope 
to reduce the place to obedience; but threats and entreaties 
were alike ineffectual, and the inhabitants avowed their 
resolution to surrender their city to the Turks, rather than 
again submit to the authority of the pope. From the success 
of the insurgents, the example began to spread through the 
adjoining districts; when Lorenzo despatched Gentile, bishop 
of Arezzo, with instructions to treat with Boccolino for a 
reconciliation. What the obstinacy of Boccolino had refused 
to the representations of the pope, was conceded to those of 
Lorenzo, under whose sanction the terms of the treaty were 
speedily concluded, and Boccolino accompanied the ambas¬ 
sador of Lorenzo to Florence. Muratori informs us, that 
the artifice by which Lorenzo extricated the pope from his 
turbulent adversary, was the timely application of some 
thousands of golden ducats; and this he accompanies with 
an insinuation, which, if justly founded, would degrade the 
magnanimous character of Lorenzo to a level with that of 
his sanguinary and treacherous contemporaries. “ Having 
invited Boccolino to Florence/’ says that author, “ Lorenzo, 
with great address, prevailed upon him, for his further secu¬ 
rity, to repair to Milan; but the only security that he there 
found was a halter from the hands of Lodovico Sforza.” 26 


26 Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 554. 


224 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VI. 

If, however, the death of Boccolino, when the conten¬ 
tion was over, was of such importance as to induce 
Lorenzo to the commission of so atrocious a crime, it is 
scarcely probable that he would have afforded his victim 
so favourable an opportunity of escaping the blow; but 
without having recourse to conjecture, a refutation of this 
calumny may be found in an author who, not being consi¬ 
dered as partial to the Medici, may on this occasion be 
admitted as an authentic witness. “ After the surrender of 
Osimo,” says Machiavelli, “Boccolino resided a considerable 
time at Florence, under the safeguard of Lorenzo, honoured 
and respected. He afterwards went to Milan, where he did 
not experience the same fidelity, having been treacherously 
put to death there by Lodovico Sforza.” 27 

The remonstrances of the Florentines to the Genoese, to 
capture of relinquish the dominion of Sarzana, being yet dis- 
sarzana. regarded, and the peaceable intervention of the 
pope and the duke of Milan appearing to be ineffectual, 
Lorenzo prepared for a powerful attack; and not only 
engaged the lords of Piombino, Faenza, Pitigliano, and 
Bologna in his cause, but applied to the king of Naples for 
such assistance as he could afford. In his answer to this 
requisition, Ferdinand confesses his high obligations to 
Lorenzo, and after lamenting his inability to repay them in 
a manner adequatefo their importance, promises to furnish 
a supply of ships against the Genoese, and to give such 
other aid as the embarrassed state of his affairs would per¬ 
mit. 28 The command of the army destined to the attack of 
Sarzana was given to Jacopo Guicciardini, and Pietro Vit¬ 
torio, who, having defeated a body of the Genoese, that 
opposed their progress, began the siege of the place. The 
resistance which they met with was, however, more obstinate 
than might have been expected. Impatient of the delay, 
Lorenzo resolved to join the army, and endeavour by his 
presence to promote the exertions of the commanders, and 
excite the ardour of the soldiery. His exhortations, addressed 
personally to every rank and denomination, produced an 

27 Mac. lib. viii. (and v. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 162.) 

28 v. App. No. XXVIII. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


225 


1487.] 

instantaneous effect: a vigorous attack was made; and the 
citizens, perceiving no prospect of further succour from the 
Genoese, surrendered at the discretion of the conquerors. 
It is not improbable, that the remembrance of the disaster 
which took place on the surrender of Volterra had operated 
as an additional motive with Lorenzo to be present at the 
capture of Sarzana; however this may be, his conduct was 
marked with the greatest clemency to the inhabitants, and 
the city was received into the protection of the Florentine 
state, to which it was only desirable, as opposing a barrier 
to the incursions of the Genoese. Elated with conquest, 
the Florentine commanders wished to carry the war into 
the states of Genoa; but Lorenzo opposed himself to this 
design; justly conceiving it to be inconsistent with the 
interests of his country, and his own character, to destroy 
that general equilibrium of the Italian states, which his 
utmost endeavours were constantly exerted to maintain. 
The apprehensions entertained by the Genoese were pro¬ 
ductive, however, of consequences as unfavourable to their 
liberties, as any which they could have experienced from a 
hostile invasion. To secure themselves from the expected 
attack, they surrendered their states to the duke of Milan, 
probably with the intention of again asserting their inde¬ 
pendence as soon as they had an opportunity; an artifice to 
which they had frequently resorted on former occasions. 29 

In the conduct of Lorenzo towards the smaller govern¬ 
ments in the vicinity of Florence, he gave a striking instance 
of prudence and moderation. Instead of seeking for pre¬ 
tences to subjugate them, he, upon all occasions, afforded 
them the most effectual aid in resisting every effort to 
deprive them of their independence. In his esti- Lorenzo 
mation, these were the true barriers of the Tuscan Senates 
territory. By the constant intercourse which he ofItal y- 
maintained with the subordinate sovereigns, and the chief 
nobility of Italy, he was enabled to perceive the first indica¬ 
tions of disagreement, and to extinguish the sparks before 
they had kindled into a flame. The city of Perugia was 


29 Murat. Annal. vol. ix. p. 555. 


15 


226 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VI. 

held by the Baglioni, Castello by the Vitelli, Bologna by 
the Bentivoli, and Faenza by the Manfredi; all of whom 
resorted to him as the umpire of their frequent dissensions, 
and their protector from the resentment or the rapacity of 
their more powerful neighbours. Innumerable occasions 
presented themselves, in which the Florentines might have 
extended the limits of their dominions; but it was uniformly 
^ the policy of Lorenzo, rather to secure what the state already 
possessed, than, by aiming at more extensive territory, to 
endanger the whole; and so fully did he accomplish his 
purpose, that the acute but profligate Lodovico Sforza was 
accustomed to say, “ That Lorenzo had converted into iron 
what he found fabricated of glass ■” 30 The views of Lorenzo 
were not, however, limited by the boundaries that divide 
Italy from the rest of Europe. The influence of other states 
upon the politics of that country was daily increasing. He 
^ had therefore, at almost every court, envoys and correspon¬ 
dents, on whose talents and integrity he had the greatest 
reliance; and who gave him minute and early information 
of every circumstance that might affect the general tran¬ 
quillity. By these men, he heard, he saw, he felt every 
motion and every change of the political machine, and was 
often enabled to give it an impulse where it was supposed 
to be far beyond the limits of his power. In conducting a 
negotiation, all circumstances seemed to concur in rendering 
him successful; but these were not the effects of chance, 
but of deep and premeditated arrangement. Knowing 
the route he had to take, the obstacles that might have 
obstructed his progress were cautiously removed, before his 
opponents were apprized of his intentions. Hence, as one 
of the Florentine annalists expresses it, 31 he became the 
balance point of the Italian potentates, whose affairs he 
kept in such just equilibrium as to prevent the prepon- 
derancy of any particular state. Surrounded as he was by 
ambitious despots, who knew no restraint except that of 
compulsion, or by restless communities constantly springing 
up with elastic vigour against the hand that pressed them; it 

30 Fabr. in Vita Laur. vol. i. p. 181. 

31 Filip, de’ Nerli, Comment, de’ Fatti civili di Fir. lib. 3. Ed. Ven. 1728. 


1487.] LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 227 

was only by unwearied attention that he could curb the 
overbearing, relieve the oppressed, allay their mutual jea¬ 
lousy, and preserve them from perpetual contention. By 
inducing them to grasp at unsubstantial advantages, he 
placed in their hands real blessings; and by alarming them 
with imaginary terrors, averted their steps from impending 
destruction. 

We have already seen, that by the terms of the treaty 
between the pope and the king of Naples, Fer- T hekin g0 f 
dinand was to pay an annual subsidy to the Roman 
see, and was also to grant an unconditional pardon treaty with 
to his refractory nobles. The latter of these con- the pope ' 
ditions he immediately broke, and the other he only adhered 
to as long as he conceived that the pope was able to compel 
its performance. The cruelty and perfidy shown by Fer¬ 
dinand, in his treatment of the Neapolitan nobility, fixes an 
indelible stain upon his character; but the operations of the 
moral world are not less certain than those of the natural, 
and the treachery of Ferdinand brought forth in due time 
its fruits of bitterness. It is true indeed, as Muratori well 
observes, “ God does not always repay in this world, nor 
are his judgments laid open to us; but if we may on any 
occasion be allowed to interpret them, it is when they seem 
to be the retribution of cruelty. In fact, the calamities of 
Ferdinand were not long postponed. The lapse of a few 
years deprived him of life, and his posterity of the kingdom 
of Naples. Surely, he can never be worthy to rule over 
a people, who knows not how to forgive.” 32 

The refusal of Ferdinand to comply with his engagements 
again roused the resentment of the pope, the inadequacy of 
whose temporal arms to enforce his pretensions, was sup¬ 
plied by the spiritual terrors of excommunication. On this 
occasion, the intervention of Lorenzo de Medici Pea ce again 
again became necessary. A long negotiation en- restored * 
sued, in the progress of which he availed himself of every 
opportunity afforded him by the circumstances of the times, 
the temper of the parties, and his own credit and authority, 
to prevent the disagreement from proceeding to an open 

32 Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 556. 


fO 


228 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VI. 

rupture. Of his letters written in the course of these 
£> transactions, some are yet preserved, which, whilst they 
display the refined policy and deep discernment of their 
author, demonstrate how assiduously he laboured to avert 
the calamities of war. “It appears to me,” says he, writing 
to Lanfredini, his confidential envoy at Rome, who was to 
lay these representations before the pope, “ that his holiness 
must propose to himself one of these three things; either to 
compel the king by force to comply with his requisition; or 
to compromise matters with him on the most advantageous 
terms that can be obtained; or, lastly, to temporize till 
something better may be effected.” He then enters into a 
full discussion of the difficulties and dangers that seem 
likely to attend the making a hostile attack on the king¬ 
dom of Naples. He lays before the pope the situation not 
/ only of the other states of Italy, but of Europe; and shows 
the indispensable necessity of entering into treaties for 
assistance, or neutrality, before he engages in so hazardous 
an attempt. Having thus endeavoured to deter the pope 
from adopting any violent and unadvised measures, he ad¬ 
verts to the probability of terminating their differences by 
negotiation; the opportunity for which, however, he thinks 
as yet crude and immature, and as likely to be still further 
delayed by any severe or incautious proceedings. “ With 
respect to temporizing,” says he, “ this is undoubtedly the 
only course to be pursued, because it is better beyond com¬ 
parison to let matters remain in their present state, with 
reputation to his holiness, than to risk a war; especially as 
the king has it in his power to do him essential injury.” 
He concludes with a recapitulation of his former opinions. 
“ If the pope can accommodate matters with the king, con¬ 
sistently with his own honour, it seems to me that a tolerable 
compromise is better than a successful war. But as difficulties 
present themselves to an immediate agreement, I would en¬ 
deavour to protract the discussion as long as it might be done 
with safety and propriety; all that I have advanced is, how¬ 
ever, upon the idea that the pope is not prepared to carry 
his point by force; for if that were the case, the king would 
soon submit; but I fear he is too well apprized how far he 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


229 


1487.] 

is liable to be injured, and on this account will be more 
obstinate.” By representations of this nature, founded on 
incontestable facts, and enforced by unansiverable arguments, 
Lorenzo at length so far mitigated the anger or abated the 
confidence of the pope, as to dispose him to listen to propo¬ 
sitions of accommodation; whilst through the medium of his 
ambassador at Naples, he prevailed on the king to assent to 
the payment of the same subsidy which his predecessors had 
paid to the holy see. It is not easy to say to which of the 
contending parties the conduct of Lorenzo was most accept¬ 
able ; the pope omitted no subsequent opportunity of con¬ 
ferring on him and his family the most important favours; 
whilst Ferdinand unequivocally acknowledged, that to his 
friendship and fidelity, he and his family were indebted for 
the rank they held, and even for their continuance in the 
kingdom of Naples. 33 

The external concerns of the republic being thus happily 
adjusted, and the tranquillity of Italy secured, Lorenzo 
applied himself to the regulation of the internal Review of 
discipline of the Florentine state. The govern- mentofTio- 
ment of this city was founded on the broadest rence * 
basis of democratic equality. By its fundamental principles, 
every person who contributed by his industry to the support 
or aggrandizement of the state had a right to share in the 
direction of it, either by delegating his power to others, or 
in exercising a portion of the supreme control, under the 
suffrages of his fellow-citizens. Inactivity was the only cir¬ 
cumstance that incapacitated him from the enjoyment of 
political rights. The Florentines, as early as the year 1282, 
had classed themselves into distinct bodies or municipal 
companies according to their various professions; and in 
order to place their government on a truly popular founda¬ 
tion, had determined, that no person should be eligible to 
a public office, unless he were either actually, or professedly, 

33 Ferdinand thus addressed himself to Antonio della Valle, one of the agents of 
Lorenzo at Naples: “ Lorenzo ha provato, che veramente ho amato lui e quella citta; 
ed io ho avuto a provare, che ha amato me, e i miei fighuoli, che senza lui, ne io ne 
loro saremmo in questo regno, il quale beneficio noi ne i nostri discendenti mai si 
hanno a scordare.” (Pet. Lutetii Ep. ad Laur. Fab. vol. ii. p. 369.) These obliga¬ 
tions were also warmly acknowledged by Ferdinand in a letter to Lorenzo himself. 
V. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 165. 


230 


THE LIFE OE 


[CH. VI. 

a member of one or other of these companies. By this 
regulation, the nobility were either excluded from the 
offices of the state, or, in order to obtain them, were obliged 
to degrade the honours of their rank by the humiliating 
appellation of artizan. 34 From these associated bodies, a 
certain number of members were deputed to exercise the 
supreme government, in conjunction with an officer whom 
we have frequently mentioned by the name of Gonfaloniere, 
whose authority was, however, subordinate to that of the 
delegated mechanics, or Priori delle arti , who continued in 
office only two months, and from three in number, had 
increased, at various intervals, to six, to eight, and lastly 
to ten. 35 This institution had, in the time of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, subsisted nearly two hundred years, during which 
the office of Gonfaloniere had been filled by a regular suc¬ 
cession of twelve hundred citizens, who had preserved the 
dignity and independence of the republic, and secured to 
their countrymen the exercise of their rights. With this 
laudable jealousy of their own liberties, the Florentines did 
not, like the Romans, from whom they derived their origin, 
exert their power to destroy the liberties of others. They 
wisely repressed the dangerous desire of subjecting to their 
dominion surrounding states, nor aspired to the invidious 
honour of sparing the subservient, and overturning the 
proud; and, though a community of freemen, they were 
content to be the first in those accomplishments which the 
flatterer of Augustus affected to despise. 36 

There is, however, reason to conjecture, that the Floren- 
Reguiations ti ne government, although sufficiently vigorous for 
Lorenzo edby 4n t erna l regulation, was inadequate to the exertions 
of external warfare. The hand that may steer a 
vessel through the tranquil ocean, may be unable to direct 
the helm amidst the fury of the storm. It may indeed 
well be conceived, that the delegated magistrates, being so 
extremely limited, as well with respect to their number, as 
to the duration of their power, would reluctantly determine 

34 Ammir. 1st. lib. iii. vol. i. p. 160. 

35 The jealous temper of the Florentines, in providing for the security of their 
liberties, is exquisitely satirized by their first poet. Dante. Purg. Cant. vi. 

36 JEu. lib. vi. 


LORENZO DE J MEDICI. 


231 


1488.] 

on, and cautiously engage in measures which involved the 
welfare, and perhaps the existence of the community. Ac¬ 
cordingly it appears, that on important occasions it was 
customary for the magistrates to assemble the most respect¬ 
able citizens, from whose advice they might derive assistance, 
and by whose countenance they might secure themselves 
from censure. During the late dangerous contest, this 
measure had been frequently resorted to, and with such 
manifest advantage, that Lorenzo, after the restoration of 
the public tranquillity, recommended and obtained the 
establishment of a body of seventy citizens, who, in the 
nature of a senate, were to deliberate and to decide on all the 
transactions of government, as well in the affairs of peace, 
as of war. This institution, for which he might have 
pleaded the example of the Spartan legislator, was probably 
intended, not only to give a greater degree of stability and 
energy to the government, but to counteract the democratic 
spirit, which was supposed to have risen to a dangerous 
excess, 37 and to operate as a safeguard against an abuse 
which was certainly the destruction of all the free states of 
antiquity—the exercise of the powers of government by the 
immediate interference of the citizens at large. 

At this period the city of Florence was at its highest 
degree of prosperity. The vigilance of Lorenzo prosperity 
had secured it from all apprehensions of external rentine stltt 
attack; and his acknowledged disinterestedness A - D - 1488 * 
and moderation had almost extinguished that spirit of dis¬ 
sension for which it had been so long remarkable. The 
Florentines gloried in their illustrious citizen, and were 
gratified by numbering in then body a man who wielded 
in his hands the fate of nations, and attracted the respect 
and admiration of all Europe. Though much inferior in 
population, extent of dominion, and military character, to 
several of the other states of Italy, Florence stood at this 
time in the first degree of respectability. The active spirit 

37 “ All free governments,” says Hume, very decisively, “ must consist of two 
councils, a lesser and greater; or, in other words, of a senate and people.” “ The 
people,” as Harrington observes, “would want wisdom without the senate; the 
senate, without the people, would want honesty.” (Idea of a perfect Common¬ 
wealth.) 


232 THE LIFE OF [CH. VI. 

of its inhabitants, no longer engaged in hostile conten¬ 
tions, displayed itself in the pursuits of commerce, and the 
improvement of their manufactures. Equally enterprising 
and acute, wherever there appeared a possibility of profit or 
of fame, they were the first to avail themselves of it; and a 
Florentine adventurer, though with doubtful pretensions, 
has erected to himself a monument which the proudest con¬ 
queror might envy, and impressed his name upon a new 
world in characters that are now indelible . 38 The silk and 
linen fabrics manufactured by the Florentines were in a 
great degree wrought from their native productions; but 
their wool was imported from England and from Spain, 
whose inhabitants indolently resigned their natural advan¬ 
tages, and purchased again, at an extravagant price, their 
own commodities. In almost every part to which the Floren¬ 
tines extended their trade, they were favoured with peculiar 
privileges, which enabled them to avail themselves of the 
riches they had already acquired; and the superstitious prohi¬ 
bitions of the clergy against usury were of little avail against 
a traffic in which the rich found employment for their wealth, 
and the powerful relief in their necessities. The consequence 
of these industrious exertions was, a sudden increase of po¬ 
pulation in Florence; insomuch that Lorenzo was under the 
necessity of applying to the pope for his permission to build 


38 Amerigo Vespucci, who has contended with Columbus for the honour of the 
discovery of America, was born at Florence in the year 1451, of a respectable family, 
of which several individuals had enjoyed the chief offices of the republic. The name 
of Amerigo was at Florence a common name of baptism. For an account of the 
controversy that has taken place respecting the pretensions of these eminent navigators, 
I must refer to Dr. Robertson's History of America, book ii. note 22, without, how¬ 
ever, approving the severity of his animadversions on the respectable Canonico 
Bandini, who has endeavoured, from original and almost contemporary documents, to 
support the claims of his countryman. (Band. Vita di Amerigo Vesp. Flor. 1745.) 
However this may he, it is certain, that about the year 1507, Vespucci resided at 
Seville, with the title of master pilot, and with authority to examine all other pilots, 
for which he had a salary assigned him; an employment, as Tiraboschi well observes, 
suitable to a skilful navigator, but far below the pretensions of a man who had first 
discovered the new continent. This employment, however, afforded Vespucci, an 
opportunity of rendering his name immortal. As he designed the charts for naviga¬ 
tion, he uniformly denominated that continent by the name of America, which, being 
adopted by other mariners and navigators, soon became general. (Tirab. vol. vi. 
par. i. p. 192.) The memory of Vespucci is therefore now secured by a memorial, 

“ Quod non imber edax, non aquilo impotens 
Possit diruere, aut innumerabilis 
Annorum series, et fuga temporum.” 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


283 


1488.J 

in the gardens of the monasteries within the walls of the 
city. By his attention the police was also effectually re¬ 
formed. A contemporary author assures us, that there was 
no part of Italy where the people were more regular in 

their conduct, or where atrocious crimes were less frequent. 39 . 

“ We have here,” says he, “ no robberies, no nocturnal 
commotions, no assassinations. By night or by day every 
person may transact his concerns in perfect safety. Spies 
and informers are here unknown. The accusation of one 
is not suffered to affect the safety of the many; for it is a 
maxim with Lorenzo, ‘ that it is better to confide in all than 
in a few!" From the same authority we learn, that the 
due administration of justice engaged his constant atten— 
tion, and that he carefully avoided giving rise to an idea, 
that he was himself above the control of the law. Where 
compulsory regulations lost their effect, the assiduity and 
example of Lorenzo produced the most salutary conse¬ 
quences, and banished that dissipation which enervates, 
and that indolence which palsies society. By forming insti¬ 
tutions for the cultivation of the ancient languages or the " 
discussion of philosophical truths, by promoting the sciences _ 
and encouraging the useful and ornamental arts, he stimu¬ 
lated talents into action, and excited an emulation which 
called forth all the powers of the mind. Even the public 
spectacles, intended for the gratification of the multitude, —- 
partook of the polished character of the inhabitants, and 
were conceived with ingenuity, and enlivened with wit. 

The prosperity and happiness which the citizens thus en¬ 
joyed were attributed to their true source, and Lorenzo 
received the best reward of his labours in the gratitude of 
his country. 40 

Beyond the limits of Tuscany, the character of this illus¬ 
trious Florentine was yet more eminently conspicuous. The _ 
glory of the republic appeared at a distance to be concen¬ 
tered in himself. To him, individually, ambassadors were 
frequently despatched by the first monarchs of Europe; 

39 Philippus Redditus Exhort, ad Pet. Med. Laur. fil. inter opusc. Joan. Laraii. 
Delic. Erudit. Flor. 1742. 

49 V. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 171. 


234 THE LIFE OF [CH. VI. 

who, as their concerns required, alternately courted his 
H.gh repu ass i s ^ ance or solicited his advice . 41 In the year 
tation of Lo- 1489, when the emperor Frederick III. sent an 
embassy to Rome, he directed them to pass through 
Florence to obtain the patronage of Lorenzo; being as he 
said, convinced of his importance in directing the affairs of ^ 
Italy. An interchange of kind offices subsisted between 
this eminent citizen and John II. king of Portugal, who 
was deservedly dignified with the appellation of Great, and 
was desirous that the transactions of his life should be 
recorded by the pen of Politiano . 42 From Matteo Corvino, 
whose virtues had raised him to the throne of Hungary, 
many letters addressed to Lorenzo are yet extant, which 
demonstrate not only the warm attachment of that monarch 
to the cause of science and the arts, but his esteem and 
veneration for the man whom he considered as their most 
zealous protector . 43 As the reputation of Lorenzo increased, 
the assiduities of Louis XI. of France became more conspi¬ 
cuous; and in exchange for professions of esteem, which 
from such a quarter could confer no honour, we find him 
soliciting from Lorenzo substantial favours . 44 The com¬ 
mercial intercourse between Florence and Egypt, by means 
of which the Florentines carried on their lucrative traffic in 
the productions of the east, was extended and improved by 
Lorenzo; and such was the estimation in which he was 
held by the sultan, that, in the year 1487, an ambassador 
arrived at Florence, bringing with him, as a mark of his 
master’s esteem, many singular presents of rare animals 
and valuable commodities; amongst the former of which, a 


41 “ C’etoit une chose aussi admirable qu’eloignee de nos mceurs, de voir ce citoyen, 
qui faisait toujours le commerce, vendre d’une main les denrees du Levant, et soutenir 
de 1’autre le fardeau de la republique; entretenir des facteurs, et recevoir des ambas- 
sadeurs; resister au pape, faire la guerre et la paix, etre l’oracle des princes, cultiver les 
belles-lettres, donner des spectacles au peuple, et accueillir tous les sfavans Grecs 
de Constantinople. II egala le grand Cosme par ses bienfaits, et le surpassa par sa 
magnificence.” Volt. Essai, vol. ii. p. 284. 

42 Pol. Epist. lib. x. ep. 1,2. 

43 These letters are preserved in the Palazzo Vecchio, at Florence. Filz. xlvii. 
(v. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 180.) 

44 A letter from Louis XI. to Lorenzo, most earnestly entreating his assistance 
in promoting the interests of the king’s favourites in a proposed nomination of 
cardinals by Innocent VIII. is preserved in the Palazzo Vecchio. Filz. lix. 


LORENZO DE ? MEDICI. 


1488.] 


235 


Camelopardalis principally attracted the curiosity of the 
populace . 45 

This epoch forms one of those scanty portions in the 
history of mankind, on which we may dwell with- General 
out weeping over the calamities or blushing for tranquillity 
the crimes of our species. Accordingly, the fancy ° f Italy ' 
of the poet, expanding in the gleam of prosperity, has cele¬ 
brated these times as realizing the beautiful fiction of the 
golden age. 46 This season of tranquillity is the interval to 
which Guicciardini so strikingly adverts, in the commence¬ 
ment of his history, as being “ prosperous beyond any other 
that Italy had experienced during the long course of a^- 
thousand years. When the whole extent of that fertile and 
beautiful country was cultivated, not only throughout its wide 
plains and fruitful valleys, but even amidst its most sterile 
and mountainous regions; and under no control but that of 
its native nobility and rulers, exulted, not only in the 
number and riches of its inhabitants, but in the magnifi¬ 
cence of its princes, in the splendour of many superb and 
noble cities, and in the residence and majesty of religion 
itself. Abounding with men eminent in the administration 
of public affairs, skilled in every honourable science and 
every useful art, it stood high in the estimation of foreign 
nations. Which extraordinary felicity, acquired at many 
different opportunities, several circumstances contributed to 
preserve; but among the rest, no small share of it was, by 
general consent, ascribed to the industry and the virtue of 
Lorenzo de’ Medici; a citizen, who rose so far beyond the 
mediocrity of a private station, that he regulated by his 
counsels the affairs of Florence, then more important by its \ 
situation, by the genius of its inhabitants, and the prompti¬ 
tude of its resources, than by the extent of its dominions; 
and who having obtained the implicit confidence of the 
Homan pontiff, Innocent VIII. rendered his name great, 

45 Of these articles Petro da Bibbiena, the secretary of Lorenzo, gives an inventory 
to Clarice his wife. v. App. No. XXIX. Fabr. ii. 337. 

46 Among the numerous pieces which allude to this period may be instanced the 
poem of Aurelius (or Lippo) Brandolini, “ De laudibus Laurentii Medicis,” which is 
given in the “ Carmina illust. Poet. Ital.” vol. ii. p. 439. A collection now very 
rarely met with. 


236 LIFE OF LORENZO DE ? MEDICI. [CH. VI. 

and his authority important in the affairs of Italy. Con¬ 
vinced of the perils that might arise, both to the Florentine 
republic and to himself, if any of the more powerful states 
should be allowed to extend their dominions, he used every 
exertion that the affairs of Italy might be so balanced, 
that there should be no inclination in favour of any parti¬ 
cular state; a circumstance which could not take place 
without the permament establishment of peace, and the 
minutest attention to every event, however trivial it might 
X appear.” Such are the representations of this celebrated 
historian. It is only to be regretted that these prosperous 
days were of such short duration. Like a momentary calm 
that precedes the ravages of the tempest, they were scarcely 
enjoyed before they were past. The fabric of the public 
happiness, erected by the vigilance and preserved by the 
constant care of Lorenzo, remained indeed firm and com¬ 
pact during the short remainder of his days; but at his 
death it dissolved like the work of enchantment, and over¬ 
whelmed for a time in its ruins even the descendants of its 
founder. 



Arms of the Medici family . 



Medal of Politiano. 


CHAPTER VII. 


1489. 


Different progress of Italian and classical literature—Latin writings of Dante , 
Petrarca, and Boccaccio—Effects produced by them—Emanuel Chrysoloras — Con¬ 
sequences of improvement—Progress of the Laurentian Library—Introduction of 
Printing in Florence—Early editions of the classic authors—Politiano corrects the 
Pandects of Justinian—Miscellanea of Politiano—His controversy with Merula — 
Establishment of the Greek academy at Florence—Joannes Argyropylus—Demetrius 
Chalcondyles—English scholars at Florence—Political importance obtained by men 
of learning—Florentine secretaries—Bartolommeo Scala—His controversy with 
Politiano—Learned statesmen in other governments of Italy—Men of rank devote 
themselves to study—Pico of Mirandula—Learned women—Allessandra Scala — 
Cassandra Fidelis—Result of the attention shewn to classical learning—Translations 
—Italian writers of Latin poetry — Landino—Ugolino and Michael Verini—Other 
Latin poets of the fifteenth century—Character of the Latin poetry of Politiano — 
General idea of the state of literature in Florence in the latter part of the fifteenth 
century. 


Of the improvement that took place in the Italian lan¬ 
guage in the fourteenth century, of its rapid and 
unexpected decline in that which succeeded, and 
of its restoration under the auspices of Lorenzo 
de’ Medici, some account has already been given; 
but in tracing the history of the revival and progress of the 
ancient languages, we shall find, that as they were in¬ 
fluenced by other causes, they neither flourished nor de¬ 
clined with the study of the national tongue. On the con¬ 
trary, a daily proficiency was made in classical literature, at 
the very time that the Italian language was again sinking 
into barbarism and neglect; and the former advanced, by a 


Different 
progress of 
Italian and 
classical li¬ 
terature. 











238 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VII. 


gradual but certain progress, towards that perfection which 
the latter suddenly and unexpectedly attained, from the 
causes to which we have before adverted . 1 

In assigning the reason for this remarkable distinction, 
Latin writ- we must again recur to the times of Dante, of 
petr^c^and Petrarca, and of Boccaccio; and observe the ef- 
Boccaccio. feets produced by the exertions of those great men, 
whose talents throw a lustre over a period which would 
otherwise be involved in total darkness. In estimating 
their labours, we shall find that their various attempts to 
reduce into form their native language, and to revive the 
study of the ancient tongues, were not only attended with 
different degrees of success, but were followed by conse¬ 
quences precisely the reverse of those which might have 
been expected. With whatever justice Petrarca and Boc¬ 
caccio might, in their own days, have boasted of their vo¬ 
luminous productions in the Latin tongue, the increasing 
applause bestowed on their Italian writings soon obscured 
their fame as Latin authors; and they are indebted for 
their present celebrity to works which they almost blushed to 
own, and were ashamed to communicate to each other . 2 The 
different merits of their Latin and their Italian compositions 
were, however, soon appreciated; and whilst the latter were 
daily rising in the estimation of the world, the former lost 
a great share of their reputation before the close of the 
succeeding century. “ It is not to be denied,” says a very 
judicious critic of that period , 3 “ that both Dante and 
Petrarca were warm admirers of the ancients; but the Latin 
writings of Dante, like a picture that has lost its colour, 
exhibit little more than an outline. Happy indeed had it 
been, had this author been enabled to convey his sentiments 
in Latin as advantageously as he has done in his native 
tongue. The numerous works of Petrarca, the offspring of 
that solitude in which he delighted, are lasting monuments 

1 Vide Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 181. 

2 The “ Decamerone” of Boccaccio was not communicated to Petrarca till many 
years after it was written, (Manni, Illust. del Boccaccio, p. 629 ;) and Petrarca himself 
confesses, that the reception of his Italian writings was far more favourable than he 
expected. Son. 253. 

3 Paulus Cortesius, De Hominihus doctis, p. 7. ed. Flor. 1734. 



LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


239 


1489 .] 

of his industry and his talents. Yet his style is harsh, and 
scarcely bears the character of Latinity. His writings are 
indeed full of thought, but defective in expression, and 
display the marks of labour without the polish of elegance; 
but as we sometimes take a potion, not for the sake of 
gratification, but of health, so from these writings we must 
expect to derive utility rather than amusement. Rude as 
they are, they possess, however, some secret charm which 
renders them engaging. The distinguished talents of Boc¬ 
caccio sunk under the pressure of the general malady. Li¬ 
centious and inaccurate in his diction, he has no idea of 
selection. All his Latin writings are hasty, crude, and un¬ 
informed. He labours with thought, and struggles to give 
it utterance; but his sentiments find no adequate vehicle, 
and the lustre of his native talents is obscured by the de¬ 
praved taste of the times.” Whilst such was the fate of the 
Latin productions of these authors, their Italian writings 
were the objects rather of adoration than applause. No 
longer confined to the perusal of the closet and the gratifi¬ 
cation of an individual, the poems of Dante and of Pet.rarca 
were read in public assemblies of the inhabitants of Flo¬ 
rence, and their beauties pointed out, or their obscurities 
illustrated, by the most eminent scholars of the time. No 
sooner was the art of printing discovered, than copies of 
them were multiplied with an avidity which demonstrates 
the high esteem in which they were held. Even the prolix 
annotations with which these early editions were generally 
accompanied, if they do not for the most part display the 
talents of the critic, are a proof of the celebrity of the 
author. This observation is not, however, applicable to the 
commentary of Dante by Landino, who, with a laudable 
perseverance, has preserved the remembrance of many his¬ 
torical facts, and related many circumstances indispensably 
necessary to the explanation of the “ Divina Commedia.” 
His industry in the execution of a task so grateful to his 
countrymen was rewarded by the donation of a villa, or 
residence, on the hill of Casentino, in the vicinity of Flo¬ 
rence, which he enjoyed under the sanction of a public 
decree. Whilst the annotator was thus compensated, the 


240 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VII. 

exiled poet was, upward of a century after his death, re¬ 
stored to his family honours, with the same formalities as 
if he had been still living; his descendants were permitted 
to enjoy the possessions of their illustrious ancestor, and 
his bust, crowned with laurels, was raised at the public 
expense. 

It might then have been expected, that the successful 
Effect pro- efforts of these authors to improve their native 
duced by tongue would have been more effectual than the 
1 em ‘ weak though laudable attempts made by them to 
revive the study of the ancient languages; but it must be 
remembered, that they were all of them men of genius, and 
genius assimilates not with the character of the age. Homer 
and Shakspeare had no imitators, and are no models. The 
example of such talents is perhaps, upon the whole, un¬ 
favourable to the general progress of improvement; and 
the superlative abilities of a few have more than once 
damped the ardour of a nation . 4 But if the great Italian 
authors were inimitable in the productions of their native 
language, in their Latin writings they appeared in a sub¬ 
ordinate character. Of the labours of the ancients, enough 
had been discovered to mark the decided difference between 
their merits and those of their modern imitators; and the 
applauses bestowed upon the latter were only in proportion 
to the degree in which they approached the models of 
ancient eloquence. This competition was therefore eagerly 
entered into; nor had the success of the first revivers of 
these studies deprived their followers of the hope of sur¬ 
passing them . 5 Even the early part of the fifteenth century 
produced scholars as much superior to Petrarca and his 
coadjutors, as they were to the monkish compilers, and 
scholastic disputants, who immediately preceded them; and 
the labours of Leonardo Aretino, Gianozzo Manetti, Guarino 
Veronese, and Poggio Bracciolini, prepared the way for the 
still more correct and classical productions of Politiano, 
Sannazzaro, Pontano, and Augurelli. The declining state 
of Italian literature, so far then from being inconsistent 

4 Varchi, L’ Ercolano, vol. i. p. 83. Ed. Padova, 1744. 

5 Velleius Paterc. lib. i. cap. 17. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


241 


1489 .] 

with, was rather a consequence of the proficiency made in 
other pursuits, which, whilst they were distinguished by 
a greater degree of celebrity, demanded a more continued 
attention, and an almost absolute devotion both of talents 
and of time. 

Whatever may have been the opinion in more modern 
times, the Italian scholars of the fifteenth century Emanuel 
did not attribute to the exertions of their own chrysoloras * 
countrymen the restoration of ancient learning. That they 
had shewn a decided predilection for those studies, and had 
excited an ardent thirst of further knowledge, is universally 
allowed; but the source from which that thirst was allayed 
was found in Emanuel Chrysoloras, who, after his return to 
his native country from his important embassies, was pre¬ 
vailed upon by the Florentines to pay a second visit to 
Italy, and to fix his residence among them. The obliga¬ 
tions due to Chrysoloras are acknowledged in various parts 
of their works, by those who availed themseves of his in¬ 
structions ; and the gratitude of his immediate hearers was 
transfused into a new race of scholars, who, by their eulo¬ 
gies on their literary patriarch, but much more by their 
own talents, conferred honour upon his memory . 6 On his 
arrival in Italy in the character of an instructor, he was 
accompanied by Demetrius Cydonius, another learned 
Greek. The ardour with which they were received by the 
Italian scholars may be conjectured from a letter of Coluccio 
Salutati to Demetrius on his landing at Venice . 7 “ I re¬ 
joice not so much,” says he, “in the honour I received 
from your notice, as for the interests of literature. At a 
time when the study of the Greek language is nearly lost, 
and the minds of men are wholly engrossed by ambition, 

6 Chrysoloras died at Constance, when the council was held there in 1415. A 
volume, consisting of eulogies upon him, lately existed in the monastery at Camaldoli. 
(Zeno. Diss. Voss. vol. i. p. 214.) Poggio, and iEneas Sylvius (Pius II.), each of them 
honoured him with an epitaph. In the latter, the merit of having been the reviver of 
both Greek and Latin literature is explicitly attributed to him. (See Hod. de Grsec. 
Illust. p. 24.) Janus Pannonius, a scholar of Guarino Veronese, (for whose history and 
unhappy fate, vide Valerianus De Infelicitate Literatorum,) in an elegant Latin pane¬ 
gyric on his preceptor, also pays a tribute of respect to the Greek scholar. Jani 
Pannonii Paneg. ad Guar. Ver. Basil. 1518, p. 11. 

7 Mehus, in Vita Amb. Trav. p. 356. This early visitor has escaped the researches 
of Dr. Hody. De Grsec. Illust. 

16 


242 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. YII. 

voluptuousness, or avarice, you appear as the messengers of 
the Divinity, bearing the torch of knowledge into the midst 
of our darkness. Happy indeed shall I esteem myself, (if 
this life can afford any happiness to a man to whom to¬ 
morrow will bring the close of his sixty-fifth year,) if I 
should by your assistance imbibe those principles from 
which all the knowledge which this country possesses is 
wholly derived. Perhaps, even yet, the example of Cato 
may stimulate me to devote to this study the little that 
remains of life, and I may yet add to my other acquirements 
a knowledge of the Grecian tongue.” 

If we advert to the night of thick darkness in which the 
world had been long enveloped, we mav easily con- 

Consequences . . ° 1 * 7 

of improve- ceive the sensations that took place m the minds 
of men when the gloom began to disperse, and the 
spectres of false science, by turns fantastic and terrific, gave 
way to the distinct and accurate forms of nature and of 
truth. The Greeks who visited Italy in the early part 
of the fifteenth century, if they did not diffuse a thorough 
knowledge of their language, and of those sciences which 
they exclusively possessed, at least prepared a safe asylum 
for the muses and the arts, who had long trembled at 
the approach, and at length fled before the fierce aspect 
of Mahomet II. From that period a new order of things 
took place in Italy; the construction of language was in¬ 
vestigated on philosophical principles; the maxims of sound 
criticism began to supplant the scholastic subtleties which 
had perverted for ages the powers of the hmnan mind; and 
men descended from their fancied eminence among the 
regions of speculation and hypothesis, to tread the earth 
with a firm foot, and to gain the temple of fame by a direct 
though laborious path. 

The establishment of public libraries in different parts of 
progress of Ifaly, whilst it was one of the first consequences of 
tlan Lu>rary" ^is striking predilection for the works of the 
ancients, became in its turn the active cause of 
further improvement. To no description of individuals is 
the world more indebted, than to those who have been 
instrumental in preserving the wisdom of past ages for the 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


243 


1489.] 

use of those to come, and thereby giving, as it were, a 
general sensorium to the human race. In this respect 
great obligations are due to the venerable Cosmo . 8 From 
the intercourse that in his time subsisted between Florence 
and Constantinople, and the long visits made by the Greek 
prelates and scholars to Italy, he had the best opportunity 
of obtaining the choicest treasures of ancient learning; and 
the destruction of Constantinople may be said to have ^ 
transferred to Italy all that remained of eastern science . 9 
After the death of Cosmo, his son Piero pursued with steady 
perseverance the same object, and made important additions 
to the various collections which Cosmo had begun, particu¬ 
larly to that of his own family . 10 But although the ances¬ 
tors of Lorenzo laid the foundation of the immense collec¬ 
tion of manuscripts since denominated the Laurentian - 
Library, he may himself claim the honour of having raised 
the superstructure. If there was any pursuit in which he 
engaged more ardently and persevered more diligently than 
the rest, it was that of enlarging his collection of books 
and antiquities. “We need not wonder,” says Niccolo 
Leoniceno, writing to Politiano , 11 “at your eloquence and 
your acquirements, when we consider the advantages which 
you derive from the favour of Lorenzo de’ Medici, the great 

8 Bandini, Lettera sopra i principj, &c. della Biblioteca Laurenziana. Fir. 1773. 

9 The library of S. Marco, which, as we have before related, was founded by Cosmo, 
with the books collected by Niccolo Niccoli, and augmented at his own expense, was, 
in the year 1454, almost buried in ruins by an earthquake, that continued at intervals 
for nearly forty days, during which several persons lost their lives. Cosmo, however, 
not only restored the building to its former state, but raised the ceiling, so as to admit 
of a more extensive collection. At the same time a new arrangement of the manu¬ 
scripts took place, and the Greek and Oriental works were formed into a class distinct 
from the Latin. Mehus in Vita Amb. Trav. pp. 66, 73. 

10 The manuscripts acquired by Piero de’ Medici are for the most part highly 

ornamented with miniatures, gilding, and other decorations, and are distinguished by 
th ejleurs de lys. Those collected by Lorenzo are marked not only by the Medicean 
arms, but with a laurel branch in allusion to his name, and the motto semper. 
When we advert to the immense prices which were given for these works, and the 
labour afterwards employed on them, they may be considered as the most expensive 
articles of luxury. A taste for the exterior decoration of books has lately arisen in 
this country, in the gratification of which no small share of ingenuity has been dis¬ 
played ; but if we are to judge of the present predilection for learning by the degree 
of expense thus incurred, we must consider it as greatly inferior either to that of the 
Romans during the times of the first emperors, or of the Italians in the fifteenth 
century. And yet it is perhaps difficult to discover, why a favourite book should not 
be as proper an object of elegant ornament, as the head of a cane, the hilt of a sword, 
or the latchet of a shoe. 11 Polit. Epist. lib. ii. ep. 7. 


244 THE LIFE OF [CH. VII. 

patron of learning in this age; whose messengers are dis¬ 
persed throughout every part of the earth, for the purpose of 
collecting books on every science, and who has spared no 
expense in procuring for your use, and that of others who 
may devote themselves to similar studies, the materials 
necessary for your purpose; I well remember the glorious 
expression of Lorenzo, which you repeated to me, that he 
wished the diligence of Pico and yourself would afford him 
such opportunities of purchasing books, that, his fortune 
proving insufficient, he might pledge even his furniture to 
possess them.” Acting under the influence of such im¬ 
pressions, we cannot wonder at the progress made by 
Lorenzo, in which he derived great assistance from Hiero- 
nymo Donato, Ermolao Barbaro, and Paolo Cortesi; but his 
principal coadjutor was Politiano, to whom he committed 
the care and arrangement of his collection, and who made 
excursions at intervals through Italy, to discover and 
purchase such remains of antiquity, as suited the purposes 
of his patron . 12 Two journeys, undertaken at the instance 
of Lorenzo, into the east, by Giovanni Lascar, produced a 
great number of rare and valuable works. On his return 
from his second expedition, he brought with him about two 
hundred copies, many of which he had procured from a 
monastery at Mount Athos; but this treasure did not 
arrive till after the death of Lorenzo, who, in his last 
moments, expressed to Politiano and Pico his regret that 
he could not live to complete the collection which he was 
forming for their accommodation . 13 Stimulated by the 
example of Lorenzo, other eminent patrons of learning 
engaged in the same pursuit. Those who particularly dis¬ 
tinguished themselves were Mattia Corvino king of Hun- 
/gary, and Pederigo duke of Urbino , 14 to both of whom 

12 Of the vigilance of Politiano in these pursuits, we have the most explicit evi¬ 
dence, in a letter from him to Lorenzo, first published by Fabroni, which may justify 
the forcible remark of that author on the literary agents of Lorenzo. u Porro ipsos 
venaticos canes dixisses, ita odorabantur omnia et pervestigabant, ut ubi quidque 
rarum esset, aliqua ratione invenirent atque compararent.” Fabr. in Vita Laur. vol i 
p. 153. App.No.XXX. 

13 “ Non nihil etiam tunc quoque jocatus nohiscum, quin utrosque intuens nos; 
Vellem, ait, distulisset me saltern mors haec ad eum diem quo vestram plane biblio- 
thecam absoluissem.” Pol. Ep. lib. iv. ep. 2. 

14 Pol. Ep. lib. iii. ep. 6. Fabr. in Vita Laur. vol. i. p. 154. 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


245 


1489 .] 

Lorenzo gave permission to copy such of his manuscripts as 
they wished to possess; nothing being more consonant to 
his intentions than to diffuse the spirit of literature as 
extensively as possible. 

The newly-discovered art of printing contributed also, in- 

an eminent degree, to accelerate the progress of clas- Introduction 
sical literature. This art was practised very early of priming in 

• i ^ w t/ Florence 

in Florence, and some of the Florentine authors have 
even been desirous of conferring on one of their countrymen 
the merit of its invention ; 15 but this acute people have too 
many well-founded claims on the gratitude of posterity, to 
render it necessary for them to rely on doubtful commenda¬ 
tion. It is however certain, that whilst Venice solicited the 
assistance of Nicolas Jensen, a native of France, and Rome 
began to practise the art under the guidance of the two 
German printers, Sweynheym and Pannartz, Florence found 
amongst her own citizens an artist equal to the task. Taking 
for his example the inscriptions on the ancient Roman seals, 16 
or more probably stimulated by the success of his contempo¬ 
raries, Bernardo Cennini, a Florentine goldsmith, formed the 
matrices of his letters in steel; by means of which, with the 
assistance of his two sons, Domenico and Piero, he began 
in the year 1471 to print the works of Virgil, with the 
commentary of Servius, which he published at Florence in 
the following year. 17 

Lorenzo de’ Medici saw the importance of a discovery, 
which had been wanting to the completion of the Early edi- 
generous views of his ancestors, and availed himself *i°" s 8 ic of lu- 
of it with a degree of earnestness which suffi- thors - 
ciently shews the motives by which he was actuated. At 
his instigation, several of the Italian scholars were induced 

15 Manni, della prima promulgazione de’ Libri in Firenze, Fir. 1761. 

‘6 Ibid. p. 3. 

17 At the close of the Bucolics, in this edition, is the following inscription: 

AD LECTOREM 

Florentioe vii. Idus Novembris, 

MCCCCLXXI. 

“ Bernardus Cenninus Aurifex omnium judicio praestantissimus et Dominicus ejus 
F. egregiae indolis adolescens: expressis ante calibe caracteribus, ac deinde fusis 
literis, volumen hoc primum impresserunt. Petrus Cenninus Bernardi ejusdem F. 
quanta potuit cura et diligentia emendavit, ut cernis. Florentinis ingeniis nil ardui 
est” And at the close of the volume is another inscription, with the date of 
October, 1472. 


246 THE LIFE OF |_ CH * VIJ - 

to bestow their attention in collating and correcting the 
manuscripts of the ancient authors, in order that they might 
be submitted to the press with the greatest possible ac¬ 
curacy. In the dialogues of Landino, published by him 
under the name of “ Disputationes Camaldulenses, 55 to 
which we have had occasion to refer, 18 that author has de¬ 
voted his third and fourth books to a critical dissertation on 
the works of Virgil, particularly with a view of explaining 
such parts as are supposed to contain an allegorical sense; 
but he soon afterwards performed a much more grateful 
office to the admirers of the Roman poet, by correcting the 
errors with which his works abounded, and endeavouring 
to restore them to their original purity. In the proeme to 
this work, which he has inscribed to Piero de’ Medici, the 
son of Lorenzo, he recapitulates the favours which the an¬ 
cestors of his patron have bestowed on men of learning, and 
particularly recommends to his imitation, in this respect, 
the example of his father. He adverts to the assassination 
of Giuliano de 5 Medici, and attributes the preservation of 
Lorenzo, at that critical juncture, to his own courage and 
magnanimity. 19 Returning to his immediate subject, he thus 
proceeds: “In my dialogues of Camaldoli, I have given a 
philosophical comment on the works of Virgil. I now mean 
to perform the office of a grammarian and critic on this 
author. In my former attempt, as the subject is of more 
dignity, I have introduced your father as one of the dis¬ 
putants ; but these observations, which are intended to in¬ 
culcate a knowledge of the Latin language, I consider as 
more properly addressed to a young man of your promising 
talents and cultivated understanding/ 520 In the year 1482, 
Landino published also an edition of the works of Horace, 
with numerous corrections and remarks, which he inscribed 
to Guido da Feltri, the son of Federigo duke of Urbino, 21 to 
whom he had dedicated, in terms of the highest com¬ 
mendation and respect, his “ Disputationes Camaldulenses. 55 

18 See p. 65. 19 Band. Spec. Lit. Flor. vol. i. p. 223. 20 Ibid. vol. i. p. 225. 

21 “ Impressum per Antonium Miscominum, Florentiae, anno Salutis mcccclxxxii 
nonis Augusti.” These commentaries were published at Venice, “ per Joannem de 
Forlivio et Socios,” in the following year, and several subsequent editions have taken 
place. 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


247 


1489 .] 

Landino was one of the first scholars who, after the revival 
of letters, devoted himself to the important task of restoring 
and elucidating these favourite authors, and his labours 
were received with unbounded applause . 22 Of his observa¬ 
tions on Horace considerable use has been made by many 
subsequent editors. On their publication, Politiano accom¬ 
panied them with the following ode, not unworthy of the 
poet whose praises it is intended to celebrate . 23 

AD HORATIUM FLACCUM. 

Vates Threicio blandior Orpheo, 

Seu malis fidibus sistere lubricos 
Amnes, seu tremulo ducere pollice 
Ipsis cum latebris feras ; 

Vates Aeolii pectinis arbiter, 

Qui princeps Latiam sollicitas chelyn, 

Nec segnis titulos addere noxiis 
Nigro carmine frontibus; 

Quis te a barbarica compede vindicat ? 

Quis frontis nebulam dispulit, et situ 
Deterso, levibus restituit choris, 

Curata juvenem cute ? 

0 quam nuper eras nubilus, et malo 
Obductus senio, quam nitidos ades 
Nunc vultus referens, docta fragrantibus 
Cinctus tempora floribus! 

Talem purpureis reddere solibus 
Lsetum pube nova post gelidas nives 
Serpentem, positis exuviis, solet 
Verni temperies poli. 

Talem te choreis reddidit et Lyrae 

Landinus, veterum laudibus sc in ulus, 

Qualis tu solitus Tibur ad uvidum 
Blandam tendere barbiton. 

Nunc te deliciis, nunc decet et levi 
Lascivire joco, nunc puerilibus 
Insertum thyasis, aut fide garrula, 

Inter ludere virgines. 


Poet, than whom the bard of Thrace 
Ne’er knew to touch a sweeter string! 

O whether from their deep recess 
The tenants of the wilds thou bring, 

With all their shades; whether thy strain 
Bid listening rivers cease to flow; 

Whether with magic verse thou stain 
A lasting blot on vice’s brow; 

22 Vide Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 183. 

23 This ode is not printed in the works of Politiano, and is very inaccurately given 
by Bandini. (Spec. Lit. Flor.) It is here republished from the edition of Horace by 
Landino, Ven. mcccclxxxiii. 



248 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VII. 


Poet! who first the Latian lyre 
To sweet vEolian numbers strung! 

When late repress’d thy native fire, 

When late impervious glooms o’erhung 
Thy front; 0 say, what hand divine 
Thy rude barbaric chains unbound, 

And bade thee in new lustre shine, 

Thy locks with vernal roses crown’d ? 

As when in spring’s reviving gleam 
The serpent quits his scaly slough, 

Once more beneath the sunny beam, 

In renovated youth to glow; 

To thy loved lyre, and choral throng, 

Landino thus their poet brings; 

Such as thy Tibur heard thy song, 

Midst her cool shades and gushing springs. 

Again with tales of whisper’d love, 

With sprightly wit of happiest vein, 

Through bands of vine-crown’d youths to rove, 

Or sport amidst the virgin train. 

It is greatly to the credit of Politiano that these verses 
were addressed to the person who was his most formidable 
rival in those studies to which he had particularly devoted 
his talents. In restoring to their original purity the ancient 
authors, he was himself indefatigable; and if to the munifi- 
_ cence of Lorenzo de’ Medici we are to attribute the pre¬ 
servation of many of these works, Politiano is perhaps en¬ 
titled to our equal acknowledgments for his elucidations 
and corrections of the text, which, from a variety of causes, 
was frequently unintelligible, illegible, or corrupt. In the 
exercise of his critical talents, he did not confine himself to 
any precise method, but adopted such as he conceived best 
suited his purpose; on some occasions only comparing 
different copies, diligently marking the variations, rejecting 
spurious readings, and substituting the true. In other 
cases he proceeded further, and added Scholia and notes 
illustrative of the text, either from his own conjectures, or 
the authority of other authors. Besides the advantages 
which he derived from various copies of the same work, 
which enabled him to collate them so as to ascertain the 
true reading, he obtained great ^sistance from the collec¬ 
tion of antiques formed by Lorenzo and his ancestors; and 
amongst his coins, inscriptions on marble, and other au¬ 
thentic documents, frequently elucidated and determined 
what might otherwise have remained in darkness or in 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


249 


1489 .] 

doubt. 24 At the close of his remarks on Catullus, a me- 
morial appears in his own hand-writing, in which he in¬ 
dulges himself in an exultation of youthful vanity, in the 
idea of having surpassed all his contemporaries in the dili¬ 
gence which he has shewn in correcting the ancient authors. 
This memorial, which bears the date of 1473, at which 
time he was only eighteen years of age, is subscribed 
Angelus Bassus Politianus. Before, however, we accuse 
our youthful critic of an ostentatious display of learning, or 
an improper confidence in his own abilities, we ought to 
advert to another entry made two years afterwards at the 
close of the works of Propertius in the same volume, by 
which he confesses that many of his previous observations 
do not approve themselves to his riper judgment, and re¬ 
quests the reader not to form an opinion of his talents, his 
learning, or his industry, from such a specimen; there being 
many things, says he, 

Me quoque, qui scripsi, judice, digna lini. 

Which I, their author, well might wish to blot. 

In this subsequent entry he denominates himself Angelus 
Politianus , which sufficiently marks the period when he 
chose to discontinue the appellation of Bassus ; 35 but, what 
is of more importance, it serves to convince us, that with 
the errors of his judgment Politiano corrected also those 
of his temper, and that his proficiency in learning was 
accompanied by an equal improvement in modesty and 
candour. Among the ancient authors which he has thus 
illustrated, are Ovid, 36 Suetonius, 37 Statius, 38 the younger 
Pliny, 39 the Scriptores Historic Augustae, 30 and Quintilian ; 31 
some of which have been published with his emendations, 
while his valuable remarks on others are yet confined to 
the limits of the Italian libraries. The example of Politiano 

24 Menck. in Vita Pol. p. 237. 

25 On this point, which has been so much contested, I find the opinion of Bandini, 
before cited in this work, p. 90, is confirmed by that of Laur. Mehus, Vita Amb. 
Traversarii, p. 87. 

26 In the Bibliotheca Marciana. 27 In the Laurentian Library. Plut. lxiv. cod. 1. 

28 In the Corsini Library at Rome. 19 In the Laurentian Library. Plut. lxvii. cod. 7. 

30 In the Laurentian Library. Plut. xliv. cod. 1. 31 Ibid. Plut. xlvi. cod. 5. 


250 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VII. 

was followed by many other celebrated scholars, who re¬ 
garded Lorenzo de’ Medici as the patron of their studies, 
and inscribed their labours with his name. Thus Domitio 
Calderino undertook to regulate the text of Martial. 33 Bar¬ 
tolommeo Fontio employed his talents on Persius, 33 and 
Lancelotto on Columella. 34 Nor were the Greek authors 
neglected. In the year 1488, Demetrius Chalcondyles and 
Demetrius Cretensis published at Plorence the first edition 
of the works of Homer, which is inscribed to Piero de’ 
Medici, the son of Lorenzo. 35 

The system of jurisprudence which in the fifteenth cen- 

poiitiano tury prevailed throughout the greatest part of 
/ pandects 4 of Europe, was that of the Roman or civil law, which 
Justinian. was principally founded on the pandects or consti¬ 
tutions of Justinian. Hence the correction and explication 
of the subsisting copies of this work became of high im¬ 
portance to the community. This task was reserved for the 
indefatigable industry of Politiano, whose labours in this 
department entitle him to rank not only with the earliest, 
but with the most learned modern professors of this science. 
In his letters he has himself given some account of his pro¬ 
gress in this laborious work. Much additional information 
may be found in the narrative of his life by Menckenius; 
and Bandini, who has lately had the good fortune to recover 
the commentary of Politiano, and restore it to its former 
station in the Laurentian Library, has published an histori¬ 
cal narrative expressly on this subject. 36 In the accomplish¬ 
ment of this task, which he was induced to undertake at 
the instance of Lorenzo de’ Medici, Politiano had singular 
advantages. An ancient and authentic copy found at Pisa, 
and supposed to have been deposited there by the orders of 

32 Printed in Rome per Joannem Gensberg, 1474. Vide De Bure, No. 2818. 

33 Published in 1481. Band. Cat. Bibl. Laur. vol. ii. p. 679. 

34 Band. Cat. vol. ii. p. 564. In the preface to this author, the editor thus ad¬ 
dresses Lorenzo: “ Ab ineunte etenim aetate, splendidissima nominis tui fama, ad 
tuam benevolentiam captandam ita me compulit, ut cunctis potius honoris tui stu- 
diosum ostendere hoc aevo malim, quam in decorem meum reticere.” 

35 Florentiae imp. Typis Bernardi et Nerii Tanaidis Nerlii Florentinorum. Nono 
mensis Decembris, Anno 1488, 2 vols. folio. For an account of this magnificent 
work, v. Maittaire, Annales Typograph. vol. i. par. 1. 49. De Bure, No. 2493. 

36 Raggionamento Istorico sopra le collazioni delle Florentine Pandctte, fatta da 
Angelo Poliziano, sotto gli auspicij del Mag. Lorenzo de’ Medici, &c. Livorno, 1762. 


251 


1489 .] LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 

Justinian himself, had on the capture of that place been 
transferred to Florence, and was afterwards intrusted by 
Lorenzo de’ Medici to the sole custody of Politiano. By 
this he was enabled to correct the numerous errors, and to 
supply the defects of the more recent manuscripts, as well 
as of two editions which had before issued from the press . 37 

37 Mr. Gibbon gives Politiano the appellation of an enthusiast, for supposing this 
manuscript to be “ the authentic standard of Justinian himself.” “ This paradox,” 
says he, “ is refuted by the abbreviations of the Florentine manuscript, and the Latin 
characters betray the hand of a Greek scribe. (Hist, of the Decline and Fall of the 
Roman Empire, book 44.) Politiano had, however, paid attention to this circum¬ 
stance, and was of opinion that it was copied by a Latin scribe, and not by a Greek. 
“ Est enim,” says he, in an epistle to Lod. Bolognese, lib. xi. “ liber characteribus 
majusculis, sine ullis compendiariis notis; nec Graecus, sed Latinus—videlicet ille 
ipse quem inter ceteros publicavit Justinianus.” But although Politiano appears to 
have given the subject a cool and critical examination, and is therefore not to be 
stigmatized as an enthusiast, yet there is reason to believe that the judgment he 
formed as to the Florentine pandects was erroneous. To the researches and the 
kindness of the reverend and very learned Dr. Parr, who has examined this question 
with particular attention, I am indebted for the observations of many eminent 
scholars, bearing directly or indirectly on this subject; from the result of which it 
may fairly be presumed, that the Florentine MS. is in fact the work of a Greek 
scribe, although it by no means follows, as Dr. Parr has himself justly observed, 
that the copy is not one of those which “ inter ceteros publicavit Justinianus.” This 
decision is principally supported by two circumstances. 1. The mode of pointing 
or stopping observable in the MS. which in many instances is that of the Greek, and 
not of the Latin scribes. On this head the most decisive authority is that of Trotz, 
an acute and learned annotator on the work of Hermannus Hugo, ajesuit, De prima 
Scribendi Origine, who, after a very minute inquiry into the methods of pointing 
adopted by the ancients, and an actual examination of the Florentine pandects, ex¬ 
pressly says, “ Unde fallitur Ang. Politianus (quem miror non notasse Brenckmannum) 
c. 41. Miscell. plane nullis intervallis dictionum archetypum esse conscriptum 
asserens,” &c. 2. The letters b and v were often used indifferently for each 

other by the Greek copyists in transcribing Latin authors, and this peculiarity is also 
observable in the Florentine pandects. In the “ Animadversiones” of Alexander 
Cunningham, on Bentley’s Horace, cap. ii. p. 157, is the following passage: 
“ Neque vero me fallit Graecos librarios, qui b, et v, eodem sono efferebant, b loco v, 
et vicissim v loco b, in latinis libris describendis, crebro posuisse. Quibus vitiis Flo- 
rentinus Pandectarum codex, nec non Glossarium Latino-Grsecum et Graeco-Latinum, 
Taurellio et H. Stephano testibus, misere laborant,” &c. Now Cunningham, as Dr. 
Parr observes, had not only great erudition, but had a clear head, and was by far the 
ablest antagonist that ever attacked Bentley upon his boasted edition of “Horace.” 
Cunningham discovered at once the most obvious as well as the most probable rea¬ 
son, which had, however, escaped the penetration of Salmasius, Stephens, (who, 
though he had noted the circumstance, did not advert to its being occasioned by 
a Greek scribe,) and the editor of Labbe. He marks the peculiarity of the change 
in the Florentine MS. and imputes it, very properly, to the Greek scribe who was 
employed upon it. Such in part are the documents upon which the opinion of Dr. 
Parr is founded, which he has also supported by many other collateral proofs, to 
which it seems impossible, notwithstanding the authority of Politiano, to refuse 
assent. 

This work, which consists of two volumes, written on thin vellum, “ was depo¬ 
sited,” says Mr. Gibbon, on the authority of Brenckman, “ as a sacred relic in a rich 
casket, in the ancient palace of the republic, new bound in purple, and shewn to 
curious travellers by the monks and magistrates, bare-headed and with lighted 


252 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VII. 

The civilians of the ensuing century have freely confessed 
their obligations to a commentator who first, with the true 
spirit of research, applied himself to the elucidation of a 
science in itself sufficiently complex and obscure, but which 
was rendered still more so, by the imperfect state of those 
authorities to which its professors were constantly obliged 
to refer. 

Of the critical talents of Politiano, and of the variety 
Mhceiianea and extent of his erudition, his “ Miscellanea” alone 
of Politiano. a ff or( j a sufficient testimony . 38 Por the publication 
of this work, which consists principally of observations on 
the writings of the ancient authors, we are also indebted 
to Lorenzo de’ Medici, to whom Politiano was accustomed, 
as they rode out on horseback, to repeat the various remarks 
which had occurred to him in his morning studies. At the 
request of Lorenzo, he was at length induced to commit 
them to paper, and to arrange them in order for the press. 
On their publication he inscribed them to his great friend 
and benefactor; not, as he assures him, merely for the pur¬ 
pose of testifying his gratitude for the assistance and advice 
which he had, in the course of his work, received from him, 
but that it might obtain favour, and derive authority from 
the celebrity of his name. 

The publication of this work soon afterwards led Politiano 
his contro- a controversy, in which he conducted himself 
versy with with firmness and moderation, and which termi¬ 
nated greatly to his honour. Lodovico Sforza, 
anxious to throw a veil over the guilt of his usurpation by 

tapers.” Since the first publication of this work I have been admonished by a 
learned Italian, that in relying on the authority of Mr. Gibbon for the above circum¬ 
stances, I have suffered myself to he misled. That such ceremonies formerly took 
place rests, however, upon undoubted authority. “ Atqui volumen ipsum—in ipsa 
Curia Florentina, a summo magistratu publice adservatur, magnaque veneratione 
quamquam raro id, etiamque ad funalia ostenditur.” (Polit. Miscel. cap. xli.) That 
this custom was continued to the present day, I neither supposed myself, nor in¬ 
tended to induce others to believe. 

38 First printed by Antonio Miscomini at Florence, with the following singular 
colophon: “ Impressit ex archetypo Antonius Miscominus. Familiares quidam 
Politiani recognovere. Politianus ipse nec Horthographian se ait, nec omnino alienam 
praestare culpam. Florentine anno salutis mcccclxxxix. Decimo tertio kalen- 
das Octobris. In 4to.” This book, like all those I have seen of the same printer, is 
most elegantly and correctly executed, and is a proof of the speedy proficiency made 
in typography at Florence. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


253 


1489,J 

an attention to the promotion of letters, had prevailed upon 
Giorgio Merula, among other learned men, to establish his 
residence at Milan, where he enjoyed an ample pension 
from the duke. The character of Merula stood high for 
his acquirements in Latin literature ; 39 but neither his pro¬ 
ficiency in learning, nor his intercourse with the great, nor 
even his advanced age, had softened or improved a disposi¬ 
tion naturally jealous and austere. He had, however, 
singled out Politiano as the only person among the scholars 
of Italy, who, in his opinion, possessed any share of merit, 
and upon an interview which they had together at Milan, 
had acknowledged, that the restoration of the language of 
the ancient Romans depended upon his exertions . 40 No 
sooner, however, did the “ Miscellanea” of Politiano make 
their appearance, than Merula availed himself of an oppor¬ 
tunity of demonstrating his own superiority by depre¬ 
ciating the labours of his rival; asserting that such 
of the remarks of Politiano as were entitled to com¬ 
mendation, might be found in the critical works which 
he had himself previously published, or were in the memory 
of his pupils who had attended his public instructions . 41 
He even insinuated that he had collected no inconsiderable 
number of gross errors, which he might probably make 
public on some future occasion. Politiano was soon ap¬ 
prized of this injurious treatment; and as he was not slow at 

39 To Merula we are indebted for the first edition of the Comedies of Plautus, 
printed at Venice," per Johannem de Colonia et Vindelinum de Spira, 1472.” He 
also corrected and commented on the works of Juvenal, of Martial, of Quintilian, of 
Ausonius, the “ Scriptores de re rustica,” and other ancient authors; several of which 
have been published with his remarks. Merula was the disciple of Filelfo, and like 
him was frequently engaged in those acrimonious contests which perhaps promoted, 
whilst they disgraced, the cause of literature. One of these debates was with 
Galeotto Marzio, who, about the year 1468, wrote his treatise “ Dehomine,” in the 
first book of which he describes the exterior, and, in the second, the interior parts of 
man. This work Merula attacked with great bitterness, and with a considerable dis¬ 
play of critical sagacity. The commentary of Merula was printed without date or 
place, and inscribed to Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici; but as the author in his 
dedication refers to the establishment of the academy at Pisa as a recent transaction, 
it was probably published about the year 1472. From this edition I shall give the 
dedication, as a striking memorial of the early reputation which these illustrious 
brothers had acquired as patrons of learning, (v. App. No. XXXI.) In the copy 
before me, the critique on Galeotto is followed by a comment on an epistle of Sappho, 
inscribed to M. Ant. Maurocenus, and by some observations on Virgil, addressed to 
Lodovico Gonzago, prince of Mantua. Some account of the life and labours of 
Merula may be found in Tirab. vol. vi. part i. p. 291. Zeno. Diss. Voss. vol. ii. p. 83. 

40 Merulse Ep. inter Ep. Pol. lib. xi. ep. 5. 41 Ibid. 


254 THE LIFE OF [CH. VII. 

resenting an indignity, it is probable that Merula would 
have experienced the weight of his resentment, had not 
other considerations interposed. Merula stood high in the 
opinion of his patron, whilst Politiano was known to live on 
terms of the closest intimacy with Lorenzo de 5 Medici. An 
open attack might therefore have involved the name of 
Lorenzo, whose connexions with Lodovico were of too much 
importance to be endangered in a literary contest. Thus 
circumstanced, Politiano adopted a more discreet and serious 
method of bringing on a discussion. He addressed a letter 
to the duke, entreating that he would exert his authority 
with Merula, to induce him to publish his criticisms; at the 
same time transmitting for his perusal a letter to Merula of 
similar import. 42 Merula however refused either to retract 
the opinions which he had avowed, or to communicate to 
Politiano his remarks. In answer to a sarcasm, which 
Politiano might well have spared, he replies,“You reproach 
me with my grey locks—I feel not their effects. I yet 
possess vigour of mind and strength of body; celerity of 
thought and tenacity of memory; of these let Politiano 
beware/ 543 Several letters on this subject appear in the 
epistles of Politiano, and the contest was rising to an ex¬ 
treme of violence, when Merula suddenly died. This event 
gave Politiano real concern, not only on account of the loss 
of a man of whose talents he entertained a high opinion, 
but as tending to deprive him still more effectually of the 
opportunity of defending his work. 44 Anxious, however, 
that nothing might be omitted which was necessary to the 
vindication of his character, he again addressed himself to 
the duke, with earnest entreaties to transmit to him the 
criticisms of Merula; but to no purpose. This formidable 
composition, if indeed it ever existed, was reduced to a 
few loose and unimportant observations. The letters of 
Lodovico, which are remarkable for their kindness and at¬ 
tention to Politiano, seem however at length to have satis¬ 
fied his restless apprehensions. “ You can have no reason, 
Angelo, 55 says the duke, “ to fear any injury to your reputa- 

42 Pol. Epist. lib. xi. epist. 1,2. 43 Merulae Ep. inter Ep. Pol. lib. xi. ep. 5. 

44 Pol. Epist. lib. xi. ep. 11. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


255 


1489.] 


tion from the suppression of the remarks of Merula, as this 
cannot be attributed to you, who, so far from wishing to 
conceal them, have used your utmost endeavours with us to 
lay them before the public ; of which the present letter may 
serve as a testimony /’ 45 

The institution of public seminaries for promoting the 
knowledge of the ancient languages, the respect Establish _ 
paid to those who undertook the task of instruc- ™ n e t k < fJ d h e e 
tion, and the ample compensation they derived, my at Flo- 
not only from the liberality of individuals, but rence * 
from the public at large, powerfully co-operated with the 
causes before mentioned in diffusing a just taste for clas¬ 
sical literature. Of the establishment of the academy at 
Pisa, by the exertions of Lorenzo de’ Medici, a brief account 
has before been given; but his attention to the cause of 
learning was by no means confined to this institution. The 
studies at Pisa were chiefly restricted to the Latin language, 
or to those sciences of which it was the principal vehicle; 
but it was at Florence only that the Greek tongue was / 
inculcated under the sanction of a public institution, either 
by native Greeks, or learned Italians, who were their power¬ 
ful competitors, whose services were procured by the dili¬ 
gence of Lorenzo de’ Medici, and repaid by his bounty. 
Hence succeeding scholars have been profuse of their ac¬ 
knowledgments to their patron, who first formed that esta¬ 
blishment, from which, (to use their own classical figure), 
as from the Trojan horse, so many illustrious champions 
have sprung, and by means of which the knowledge of the 
Greek tongue was extended, not only through all Italy, but 
through France, Spain, Germany, and England; from all 
which countries numerous pupils attended at Florence, 
who diffused the learning they had there acquired through¬ 
out the rest of Europe . 46 


45 Pol. Epist. lib. xi. ep. 21. 

46 “ Quo sane tempore Florentiae, veluti in celeberrimo totius orbis theatro, erudi- 
tissimi viri, tanquam ex equo Trojano innumerabiles proceres, sese in orbem terrarum 
effuderunt. Quamobrem non modo Italia, sed etiam Gallia, Hispania, Germania, et 
Britannia, hujusmodi beneficium Medicum familiae acceptum referunt.” (Petri Angelii 
Epist. ap. Band. Cat. vol. ii. p. 397.) Alluding to a well known and much admired 
passage in the second book of Cicero de Oratore: “ Ecce tibi exortus est Isocrates, 
magister istorum omnium, cujus e ludo, tanquam ex equo Trojano, meri principes 
exierunt.” 


256 THE LIFE OF [CH. VII. 

Of this institution the first public professor was the emi- 
johannes nent Johannes Argyropylus, who, after having en- 
Argyropyius. j 0 y e d for several years the favour and protection 
of Cosmo and Piero de Medici, and having had a principal 
share in the education of Lorenzo, was selected by him as 
the person best qualified to give instructions on the Greek 
tongue. Of the disciples of Argyropylus, Politiano, if not 
the most diligent, was the most successful. With the 
precepts which he imbibed, he acquired a predilection for 
the source from whence they flowed; and his writings dis¬ 
cover numerous instances of his affection and veneration for 
the man who first opened to him the treasures of Grecian 
literature. To the unlimited applause bestowed by the 
scholar on the master, one exception only occurs. Argyro¬ 
pylus had professed an open hostility to the reputation of 
Cicero, whom he represented as a sciolist in the Greek 
tongue, and as unacquainted with the tenets of the different 
sects of philosophy, to which so many of his writings relate. 
The acuteness of Argyropylus, and the influence of his 
authority, degraded in the estimation of his pupils, the 
character of the Roman orator; and Politiano, in his riper 
years, seems to shudder at the recollection of the time when 
the ignorance of Tully was a matter taken for granted by 
him and his fellow-students. 47 During the long residence of 
Argyropylus in Italy he had acquired an extensive know¬ 
ledge of the Latin language—a species of praise to which 
few of his countrymen are entitled. His translations into 
Latin of various tracts of Aristotle, are, for the most part, 
inscribed to his successive patrons of the family of the 
Medici, in language expressive of his respect and grati¬ 
tude. 48 Among his auditors we find Donato Acciajuoli, 
Janus Pannonius, and the German prelate Johannes Reuch- 
linus, who having had the singular good fortune to obtain 
some previous knowledge of the Greek tongue, displayed, 
it is said, on his first interview with Argyropylus, such an 
acquaintance with it, as induced the Greek to exclaim 


47 Pol. in Miscel. cap. 1. 

48 Band. Cat. Bibl. Laur. vol. iii. pp. 3, 4, 234, 242, 359, &c. 


LORENZO BE MEDICI, 


1489.] 


257 


with a sigh, “Alas! Greece is already banished beyond the 
Alps.”** 

To the industry of Argyropylus, and the excellence of his 
precepts, his disciple Acciajuoli has borne ample testimony; 
affirming, that whilst he inculcated his doctrines, the times 
of the ancient philosophers seemed to be again renewed. 50 
If, however, we may give credit to the testimony of Paulus 
Jovius, the precepts and the practice of Argyropylus were 
not entirely consistent with each other; and the obesity of 
his figure, which was supported by an immoderate supply 
of food and wine, seemed to mark him out as belonging to 
a different sect of philosophers. 61 But the bishop of Nocera 
had too many passions to gratify, to permit him to perform 
the part of a faithful historian, and there are few of his 
characters that are not discoloured or distorted by the 
medium through which they are seen. The same author 
attributes the death of Argyropylus to the intemperate use 
of melons, which brought on an autumnal fever, that put a 
period to his life in the seventieth year of his age. This 
event took place at Rome, where he had fixed his residence 
some time previous to the year 1471. 52 

After an interval of a few years, during which there is 
reason to believe that the office of public Greek Demetrius 
professor at Florence was filled by Theodorus Gaza, chalcond y les - 
and not by Politiano, as asserted by Jovius, the loss of 
Argyropylus was supplied by Demetrius Chalcondyles, who 
was invited by Lorenzo de’ Medici to take upon himself 
that employment about the year 1479. 53 It is generally 


49 Hodius de Graec. illust. p. 201. This expression strongly resembles the words of 
Molo, the celebrated rhetorician of Rhodes. He did not understand Latin; and 
whilst Cicero was declaiming in Greek before him, Molo for a time listened in 
silence, and at last exclaimed, “ As for you, Cicero, I praise and admire you, but 
pity the fortune of Greece, to see arts and sciences, the only ornaments which were 
left to her, transplanted by you to Rome.” From Middleton’s Life of Cicero, 8vo. 
edit. vol. i. p. 47. 

50 Acciajuol. ap. Hod. de Graecis, 202. 51 Jovii. Elog. xxvii. 

52 Hodius de Graec. illust. p. 198, where the author has given a translation of the 
Greek epigram of Politiano, expressing his earnest wishes for the return of Argyropylus 
to Florence. 

53 “ Demetrius Chalcondyles, diligens grammaticus, et supra graecorum mores, cum 
nihil in eo fallaciarum aut fuci notaretur, vir utique lenis et probus, scholam Floren- 
tiae instauravit, desertam ab Argyropylo, et a Politiano, deficientibus graecis occu- 
patam.” (Jov. Elog. xxix.) This information, if not refuted, is rendered highly proble- 

17 


258 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VII. 

understood that an enmity subsisted between Politiano and 
Chalcondyles, in consequence of which the latter was event¬ 
ually under the necessity of quitting Florence, whence he 
retired to Milan; but for this opinion the only authority is 
that of Jovius, and of those who have implicitly confided in 
his relation. 54 

This author, always hostile to the character of Politiano, 
would induce us to believe, that the Italian scholar, actuated 
by his jealousy of the Greek, and availing himself of his 
superior wit and eloquence, endeavoured to injure Chalcon¬ 
dyles by drawing off his pupils, and engaging them in his 
own auditory; and that Lorenzo de’ Medici, as well in 
order to remove the causes of their contention, as to avail 
himself of their mutual emulation, divided between them 
the task of educating his children. It may however be 
observed, that no traces of this dissension are to be found 
in the narrative of any contemporary author; and although 
the known irascibility of Politiano, and his acknowledged 
animosity to the Greeks, may seem to strengthen the credit 
of Jovius, yet it will appear, on further consideration, that 
these very circumstances tend greatly to invalidate his testi¬ 
mony. The antipathies of Politiano were never concealed; 
and his letters, which extend nearly to the time of his death, 
contain many instances of that vehemence with which he 
attacked all those who he conceived had given him just cause 
of offence; but of any dissensions until Chalcondyles, no 
memorial is to be found. On the contrary, Chalcondyles 
is frequently noticed, both by the Italian scholar and his 
correspondents, as living with him in habits of intimacy. 55 

matical by the Greek epigram written by Politiano to Chalcondyles, on his arrival at 
Florence, in which he considers him as the successor of Gaza, and as supplying the 
maternal office of nourishing the unfledged offspring of literature, deserted by their 
former parent. A mode of expression not likely to be used by Politiano to a man 
who was to supersede him in his office of public instructor. A translation of this 
epigram is given by Hody, p. 211. 

54 Boissard, BaiUet, Varillas, &c. The dissensions between Politiano and Chalcon¬ 
dyles have also engaged much of the attention of Menckenius, (Ang. Pol. Vita, p. 65,) 
and of Bavle, (Diet. Hist. Art. Politien,) who have doubted of the veracity of the 
narrative of Jovius, without adducing that evidence of its improbability which a more 
minute examination would have supplied. 

55 In the year 1491, being only the year previous to the death of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, Pomponius Laetus writes to Politiano, “ Commenda me Medicibus patri et 
liberis literarum, patronis. Deinde plurima salute Demetrium impertias.” To which 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


259 


1489.] 

The rest of the information derived from Jovius is equally 
futile. The uninterrupted affection that subsisted between 
Lorenzo and Politiano would have prevented the former 
from adopting a measure which the latter could only have 
considered as an impeachment of his talents; but inde¬ 
pendent of inferences drawn from this source, we have 
positive evidence, that however the children of Lorenzo 
might attend the incidental instructions of others, Politiano 
had the constant superintendence of their education, and 
was addressed, on all occasions, as the sole person honoured 
with that important trust. 

Prom the Plorentine institution, it is not difficult to dis¬ 
cover the progress of Grecian literature to the rest Englishscho . 
of Europe; but the traces of the channels by 
which it was conveyed are in no instance more 
conspicuous than in those which communicated with this 
country. William Grocin , 56 who was for some years pro¬ 
fessor of Greek literature in the university of Oxford, had 
made a journey to Italy, and had resided, for the space of 
two years, at Florence, where he attended the instructions 
of Chalcondyles and of Politiano. Thomas Linacer, whose 
name deservedly holds the first rank among the early 
English scholars, availed himself of a similar opportunity; 
and, during his abode at Florence, was so eminently distin¬ 
guished by the elegance of his manners and his singular 
modesty, that he is said to have been selected by Lorenzo 
de’ Medici as the associate of his children in their studies . 57 

Politiano replies, “ Medices nostri unice tibi favent. Demetrius autem salutem sibi a 
te dictam totidem verbis remuneratur. In Fesulano sexto idus Augusti mccccxci.” 
Pol. Ep. lib. i. ep. 17, 18. 

56 Guil. Latimer, in Ep. ad Erasm. ap. Menck. in Vita Polit. 

47 Jovii Elog. lxiii. This circumstance is also particularly adverted to in the fol¬ 
lowing very elegant and apposite passage from an Harveian oration of the celebrated 
Dr. Akenside, communicated to me by Dr. Parr: 

“-Italiam vero, quo tempore Linacrus invisit, regionem illam totam et princi- 

pum aulas, et liberarum concilia ilia civitatum, una fere voluntas, unum doctrinae stu- 
dium tenebat. Praecipue tamen eminebat Florentinorum fama; quorum Respublica, 
plerumque alias turbulentissima, tunc forte in Laurenti Medicis ductu, ac prope clien- 
tela, feliciter acquievit. Qui cum per universum nomen Italicum pacis concordiaeque 
auctor, et bonus, et sapiens, et felix audiret; turn porro ad ista beneficia patriae suae 
data, nimium, heu! caduca, et cum ipso brevi moritura, alteri ilia pari sane cura, sed 
melioribus auspiciis adjunxit, et literis ac disciplinis restitutis oriunda; nullo unquam 
tempore moritura; per omnes terrarum gentes pertinentia; quorum hodie in hoc 
ipso loco, forte vacuus et expers adest. Huic se viro tantopere commendavit indole 


260 


THE LIFE OE 


[CH. VII. 


Political im¬ 
portance ob¬ 
tained by 
men of learn¬ 
ing. 

pursuits. 


r 


Such were the causes that in the fifteenth century con¬ 
curred to promote the study of the ancient lan¬ 
guages in Italy; but one circumstance yet remains 
to be noticed, which was perhaps more efficacious 
than any other in giving life and energy to these 
An acquaintance with the learned languages was, 
at this period, the most direct path, not only to riches and 
literary fame, but to political eminence; and the most 
accomplished scholars were, in almost every government of 
Italy, the first ministers of the time. This arose, in a great 
degree, from the very general use of the Latin tongue in the 
negotiations of different states, which rendered it almost 
impossible for any person to undertake the management of 
public affairs, without an habitual acquaintance with that 
language; but this was more particularly exemplified in 
Florence, where the most permanent officers were uniformly 
selected on account of their learning. During a long course 
of years the place of secretary, or chancellor of the republic, 
(for these terms seem to have been indiscriminately used), 
was filled by scholars of the first distinction. In the begin¬ 
ning of the fifteenth century, it was held by Coluccio Salu- 
tati, who had been the intimate friend of Petrarca and of 
Boccaccio, and is denominated by Poggio, “ The common 
father and instructor of all the learned He was succeeded 
by Leonardo Aretino, whose services to the republic 
were repaid by many privileges and favours con¬ 
ferred on himself and his descendants. After the death of 
Leonardo, this office was given to Carlo Marsuppini, and 
was afterwards successively held by Poggio Bracciolini, and 
Benedetto Accolti. During a great part of the time that 
the affairs of Florence were directed by Lorenzo de’ Medici, 
the chancellor of the republic was Bartolomeo Scala, whose 
life affords the best example of the honours and emoluments 
which were derived from the cultivation of literature. Scala 

sua et modestia Linacrus, ut condiscipulum eum et amicu\ filiis suis adderet; quo¬ 
rum aetate medius Johannes Medices, postea Leonis X. appellatione, pontifex Romanus, 
ad istam, qua omnium aures quotidie personant eruditae magnificentiae laudem per- 
venit. In illo contubernio quantum profecerit Linacrus, quanto cum ardore et quanto 
fructu Christophorum Landinum, Demetrium Chalcondylum, Angelum Politianum, 
Marsilium Ficinum, Johannem Picum audieret it frequentarit, facilius intelligi potest 
quam verbis significant 


Florentine 

secretaries. 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


261 


1489.] 

deduced his origin from parents of the lowest rank; nor did 
he possess from his birth even the privileges of a Florentine 
citizen. An early proficiency in letters recommended him 
to the notice of Cosmo de’ Medici; and it was the pride of 
Scala to avow the meanness of his birth, and the obligations 
which he owed to his earliest patron. The loss of Bartolomeo 
Cosmo was amply compensated to Scala by the Scala - 
favour of his descendants, through whose assistance he gra¬ 
dually rose to honours and to affluence, and in the year 
1472 was intrusted with the seal of the republic. In imi¬ 
tation of his predecessors in this office, Scala began a history 
of Florence, of which he lived to complete only four books. 58 
His apologues are highly commended by Landino and 
Ficino. Of his poetry, specimens remain both in the Latin 
and Italian languages, and the former have obtained a place 
in the celebrated collection of the Latin poems of his illus¬ 
trious countrymen. 59 When the proverbial uncertainty of 
public favour is considered, the life of Scala may be esteemed 
a life of unusual prosperity. He transacted the concerns 
of the republic with acknowledged fidelity, industry, and 
ability; arrived at the highest dignities of the state; amassed 
wealth; ranked with men of learning; and left at his death 
a numerous progeny to inherit his riches and his respect¬ 
ability. In his controversy with Politiano he appears, 
however, as a scholar, to manifest disadvantage; but the 
impetuosity of his adversary hurried him into a contest 
which it is evident he would willingly have avoided, and in 
which every effort to extricate himself only brought down a 
severer chastisement. 

From the epistles of Politiano, it appears, that for some 
time these angry disputants had shared the favour His contro 
of Lorenzo de’ Medici without discovering any vers y. with 
symptoms of jealousy, and had even been in the 
habit of submitting to each other their literary works for 
mutual correction. Scala, however, having discovered, or 
suspected, that Lorenzo had employed Politiano to revise 
the letters which he had written in the execution of his 
office, as chancellor of the republic, began to entertain a 

58 Manni. Vita Bart. Scalae, p. 47 . 59 Carm. illust. Poet. Ital. vol. iii. p. 489. 


262 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VII. 

secret enmity against his rival, and omitted no opportunity 
of depreciating his writings. Politiano was no sooner aware 
that his literary reputation was attacked, than he gave a 
loose to feelings which it is probable he had before with 
difficulty repressed; and notwithstanding the rank and 
respectability of Scala, addressed him in a style that shews 
the high opinion which he entertained of his own talents, 
and his contempt of those of his adversary. Alluding, in 
one of his letters, to the parentage of Scala, he gives him 
the appellation of monstrum furfuraceum. In another, he 
honours him with a comment on this title . 60 To the boast¬ 
ing of Scala, respecting the approbation expressed of him 
by Lorenzo, he returns an answer which in these days 
(whether more polished or more barbarous the reader may 
determine) could only have been expiated in the blood of 
one of the disputants . 61 In this transaction it must be 
allowed that Politiano suffered himself to be carried beyond 
all reasonable bounds, and forgot that respect which he 
owed, if not to the character of his opponent, at least to his 
own dignity and reputation. It may perhaps be thought 
that Lorenzo de’ Medici ought to have interposed his au¬ 
thority to suppress a contest which contributed so little to 
the credit of the parties, but it was not till after the death 
of Lorenzo that the dispute became so outrageous. It must 
be observed that Menckenius, the historian of Politiano, has 
on this occasion attributed to the expressions of Scala, 
an import which it is certain they were not intended to 
convey . 63 

60 “ At ego monstrum te vocavi furfuraceum ; monstrum quidem, quod ex collu- 
vione monstrorum compositus es, furfuraceum vero, quod in pistrini sordibus natus, 
et quidem pistrino dignissimus.” Pol. Ep. lib. xii. ep. 18. 

61 “ Extat,” thus Scala writes to Politiano, “ et ilia de me Laurentii Medicis prae- 
clarissima vox, qua nusquam collocatum melius fuisse honorem homini novo testifi- 
catus est.” (Lib. xii. ep. 16.) To which Politiano laconically replies, “De Cosmo 
quae jactas, deque Laurentio Medice, falsa omnia.” Ibid. ep. 18. 

62 In the early part of the quarrel, Scala has the following passage, in a letter to 
Politiano: “ Tu certe praeter caeteros, mi Politiane, naturae multum debes, ilia tihi 
ingenium istud dedit: ut corporis modo praetermittam dotes, quae nonnihil et ipsae 
habere a quibusdam putantur momenti ad felicitatem et fortunae commoda: quae 
profecto juvare nativam virtutem, nisi ipsa sese deserat, vehementer solent. Caecus 
sit funditus qui haec non viderit.” “ Si quid video (says Menckenius) sunt et hcec 
per ludibrium forsan et per invidiam a Scala dicta, ut obscoenos Politiani mores per- 
stringeret, quasi is nempe corporis sui copiam principi juventuti fecerit, semper ita 
amantes studiososque sui Medicaeos habiturus. Ut adeo mirari vix satis possim, non 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


263 


1489.] 

If the circumstances before related were not sufficiently 
characteristic of the spirit of the times, we might 
advert to the other governments of Italy; where 
we should find, that offices of the highest trust 
and confidence were often filled by men who 
quitted the superintendence of an academy, or the chair of 
a professor, to transact the affairs of a nation. Alfonso, 
king of Naples, and Francesco Sforza, contended in liberality 
with each other, to secure the service of Beccatelli . 63 Pon- 
tano was the confidential adviser, and frequently the repre¬ 
sentative to other powers of Ferdinand, the son of Alfonso . 64 
The brothers of the family of Simoneta directed for a consi¬ 
derable time the affairs of Milan . 65 Bernardo Bembo, and 
Francesco Barbaro, maintained the literary, no less than the 
political dignity of the Venetian republic. When eminent 
talents were not engaged in public services, they were re¬ 
warded by the most flattering attention, and often by the 
pecuniary bounty of illustrious individuals, who relaxed from 

sensisse hos aculeos, nec his quidquam reposuisse Politianum,” &c. In supposing 
he could see so much clearer into the concerns of Politiano than Politiano himself, 
Menckenius is mistaken; it certainly never came into the head of either of the dis¬ 
putants, that this passage contained any insinuation of the nature alluded to by 
Menckenius. Giuliano de’ Medici had been dead many years; nor had he in his life¬ 
time given room for such an imputation; and at all events there is no probability that 
Scala would have hazarded the most remote insinuation of this kind, against a family 
on whose favour he existed, to say nothing of the inattention with which Politiano 
treats this passage, which he certainly considered only as a piece of ridicule on his 
wry neck and hooked nose, and as such thought it below his attention. 

63 Zeno, Diss. Voss. vol. i. p. 309; et vide p. 33. 

64 Giovanni Pontano, or, according to the academical appellation which he adopted, 

Jovianus Pontanus, was a native of Cerreto, in Umbrio, but when young and friendless 
took up his residence at Naples. His learning recommended him to Alfonso, and 
afterwards to Ferdinando; by whom he was intrusted with the highest offices of 
the state. Besides his undertaking many important embassies, Pontano was chief 
secretary to the king, and on one occasion his representative as viceroy of Naples. 
As a scholar he was the only person of the age whose productions can contend 
for superiority with those of Politiano. His poems were published by Aldus, in two 
volumes 1513, 1518. His prose works in three volumes, 1518, 1519. Among the 
latter is a treatise “ De Ingratitudine,” in which he assumes the merit of having been 
instrumental in concluding peace between Ferdinand and the pope, and gives a loose 
to his exultation in having rendered his king so important a service; but alas! Pon¬ 
tano lived to give the fullest comment on his treatise in his own conduct. For 
although he enjoyed the favour of the family of Arragon for nearly half a century, 
yet when Charles VIII. of France, in the year 1495, seized upon the kingdom of 
Naples, and assumed the emblems of royalty, Pontano, in the name of the Neapoli¬ 
tans, made the public oration to him, and took care not to forget the defects of his 
royal patrons, with which he had the best opportunities of being acquainted. (Zeno, 
Diss. Voss. vol. ii. p. 172. Guicciard. 1st. d’ Italia, lib. ii.) Pontano died in 1603, 
at the age of 77 years. 65 Vide ante, p. 112. 


Learned 
statesmen 
in other go¬ 
vernments 
of Italy. 


264 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VII. 


/ 


the fastidiousness of rank, in the company of men of learn¬ 
ing, or have left memorials of their regard by their epistolary 
correspondence. 

Nor was it seldom that the characters of the scholar, and 
Men of rank of the man of rank, were united in the same person. 

Of this Giovanni Pico of Mirandula, to whom we 
d y- have before frequently adverted, is perhaps the 

most illustrious instance. This accomplished nobleman, of 
whom many extraordinary circumstances are related, and 
who certainly exhibited a wonderful example of the powers 
Pico of of the human mind, was born at Mirandula in the 
Miranduia. y ear 1463, and was one of the younger children 
of Giovan-Prancesco Pico, prince of Mirandula and Con¬ 
cordia. 66 So quick was his apprehension, so retentive his 
memory, that we are told a single recital was sufficient to 
fix in his mind whatever became the object of his attention. 
After having spent seven years in the most celebrated uni¬ 
versities of Italy and Prance, he arrived at Rome in the 
twenty-first year of his age, with the reputation of being 
acquainted with twenty-two different languages. 67 Eager 
to signalize himself as a disputant, Pico proposed for public 
debate nine hundred questions, on mathematical, theologi¬ 
cal, and scholastic subjects, including also inquiries into the 
most abstruse points of the Hebraic, Chaldaic, and Arabic 
tongues. 68 This measure, which in its worst light could 


66 Voltaire has erroneously given Pico the name of Jean-Fran^ois , confounding 
him with his nephew the son of his elder brother Galeotto. This Jean-Fran$ois, or 
Giovan-Francesco Pico, succeeded to his father in the sovereignty of Mirandula, and 
was one of the most distinguished scholars of his time. By him there remains a life 
of his uncle, written in Latin, which, whilst it atfords much information respecting 
this extraordinary man, displays a deplorable degree of superstition in the author. 
The mother of Giovanni Pico was of the family of Bojardo the poet. 

67 “ Cela,” says Voltaire very justly, “ ri’est certainement pas dans le cours ordi¬ 
naire de la nature. II n’y a point de langue que ne demande environ une annee pour 
la hien savoir. Quiconque dans une si grande jeunesse en sait vingt-deux, peut etre 
soup 9 onne de les savoir bien mal, ou plutot il en sait les elemens, ce qui est ne rien 
savoir.” Essai, ut sup. 

68 Voltaire, not satisfied with these 900 questions, has increased their number to 
1400; and informs us that they may be found at the head of the works of Pico. 
(Essai, ut sup.) It is to be wished that he had pointed out in what edition of the 
works of Pico he had discovered these 1400 questions ; for the existence of which he 
seems to have had the same authority as he had for supposing that the learning of 
those days consisted merely in an acquaintance with the sophisms of the schoolmen, 
or that the sciences were then held in contempt by princes and men of eminence. 
Assertions unworthy of an author who professes to write sur les moeurs et Vesprit de 
nations. 


1489.1 


LORENZO 1)e’ MEDICI. 


265 


only be considered as an ebullition of youthful vanity, 
might, without any great injustice, have been suffered to 
evaporate in neglect; but the Romish prelates, instead of 
consigning these propositions to their fate, or debating 
them with the impartiality of philosophers, began to examine 
them with the suspicious eyes of churchmen, and selected 
thirteen of them as heretical. To vindicate his labours 
from this dangerous imputation, Pico composed a Latin 
treatise of considerable extent, which he is said to have 
written in the space of twenty days, and which he inscribed 
to Lorenzo de’ Medici, under whose protection he had shel¬ 
tered himself from persecution at Florence . 69 The character 
and acquirements of Pico afforded to his contemporaries a 
subject for the most unbounded panegyric. “ He was a 
man,” says Politiano, “ or rather a hero, on whom nature 
had lavished all the endowments both of body and mind; 
erect and elegant in his person, there was something in his 
appearance almost divine. Of a perspicacious mind, a won¬ 
derful memory, indefatigable in study, distinct and eloquent 
in speech, it seems doubtful whether he was more conspi¬ 
cuous for his talents or his virtues. Intimately conversant 
with every department of philosophy, improved and invi¬ 
gorated by the knowledge of various languages, and of every 
honourable science, it may be truly said, that no commenda¬ 
tion is equal to his praise.” 

The instances before given of the critical talents of Pico, 
whatever may be thought of their accuracy, will at least 
justify him from the reproof of Voltaire, who is of opinion 
that the works of Dante and Petrarca would have been a 
more suitable study for him, than the summary of St. Tho¬ 
mas, or the compilations of Albert the Great . 70 But the 
literary pursuits of Pico were not confined to commentaries 
upon the works of others. From the specimens which re¬ 
main of his poetical compositions in his native language, 
there is reason to form a favourable judgment of those which 


69 “ Apologia tredecim Quaestionum.” This treatise was published with the other 
Latin works of Pico, at Venice, “ per Bernardinum Venetum, an. mcccclxxxxviii.” 
in fol. The dedication of the “ Apologia” is strongly expressive of the esteem and 
admiration of its author for Lorenzo de’ Medici. 70 Volt. Essai, tom. ii. p. 296. 


266 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VII. 

have perished. Crescimbeni confesses, that by his early 
death the Tuscan poetry sustained a heavy loss, and that his 
accomplished pen might have rescued it from its degraded 
state, without the intervention of so many other eminent 
men, whose labours had been employed to the same pur¬ 
pose . 71 The few pieces which remain of his Latin poetry 
induce us to regret the severity of their author. These 
poems he had arranged in five books, which he submitted 
to the correction of Politiano, who, having performed his 
task, returned them, with an elegant apology for the free¬ 
doms he had taken . 73 Soon afterwards Pico committed his 
five books to the flames, to the great regret of Politiano, 
who has perpetuated this incident by a Greek epigram . 73 
If the works thus destroyed were equal in merit to his Latin 
elegy addressed to Girolamo Benivieni, posterity has indeed 
reason to lament the loss . 74 

Among the circumstances favourable to the promotion of 
Learned letters in the fifteenth century, another yet remains 
women. } 3e no ticed, which it would be unpardonable to 
omit; and which, if it did not greatly contribute towards 
their progress, certainly tended, not only to render the 
study of languages more general, but to remove the idea 
that the acquisition of them was attended with any extraor¬ 
dinary difficulty. This was the partiality shewn to these 
studies, and the proficiency made in them, by women, illus¬ 
trious by their birth, or eminent for their personal ac- 
Alessandra complishments. Among these, Alessandra, the 

Scala * daughter of Bartolomeo Scala, was peculiarly dis¬ 
tinguished. The extraordinary beauty of her person was 
surpassed by the endowments of her mind. At an early 
age she was a proficient, not only in the Latin, but the 
>4 Greek tongue , 75 which she had studied under Joannes 

71 Crescimb. 1st. della volgar Poesia, vol. ii. p. 336. 

72 “ Neque ego judicis (ita me semper ames) sed Momi personam indui, quem 
ferunt sandalium Veneris tandem culpasse, cum Venerem non posset. Confodi igitur 
versiculos aliquos, non quod eos improbarem, sed quod tanquam equestris ordinis, 
cedere reliquis, veluti senatoribus videbantur atque patacas.” (Pol. Ep. lib. i. ep. 4.) 

73 Ibid. lib. i. ep. 7. 74 Opere di Benivieni, p. 75. Ed. Ven. 1524. 

75 Some of the Greek poems of Alessandra appear in the works of Politiano. 
(Ed. Aid. 1498.) And Politiano is supposed to have addressed to this lady several 
of his amorous verses. 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


267 


1489.] 

Lascar and Demetrius Cbalcondyles. Such an union of ex¬ 
cellence attracted the attention, and is supposed to have en¬ 
gaged the affections of Politiano; but Alessandra gave her 
hand to the Greek Marullus, who enjoyed at Florence the 
favour of Lorenzo de 5 Medici, and in the elegance of his 
Latin compositions, emulated the Italians themselves. 76 
Hence probably arose those dissensions between Marullus 
and Politiano, the monuments of which yet remain in their 
writings. 77 

Of yet greater celebrity is the name of Cassandra Fidelis. 
Descended from ancestors who had changed their Cassandra 
residence from Milan to Venice, and had uniformly Fidelis - 
added to the respectability of their rank by their uncommon 
learning, she began at an early age to prosecute her studies 
with great diligence, and acquired such a knowledge of the 
learned languages, that she may with justice be enumerated 
among the first scholars of the age. 78 The letters which 
occasionally passed between Cassandra and Politiano de¬ 
monstrate their mutual esteem, if indeed such expression be 
sufficient to characterize the feelings of Politiano, who ex¬ 
presses, in language unusually florid, his high admiration of 
her extraordinary acquirements, and his expectation of the 
benefits which the cause of letters would derive from her 
labours and example. 79 In the year 1491, the Florentine 
scholar made a visit to Venice, where the favourable opinion 
which he had formed of her writings was confirmed by a 
personal interview. “ Yesterday, 55 says he, writing to his 
great patron, “ I paid a visit to the celebrated Cassandra, to 

76 The works of Marullus were published at Florence, under the title of hymni 
et epigrammata. At the close we read, “ Impressit Florentiae Societas Colubris 
vi. kal. Decembris, mcccclxxxxvii.” His epigrams are inscribed to Lorenzo, the 
son of Pier-Francesco de’ Medici. The three books of Hymns of Marullus are 
addressed to the Pagan deities, or the phenomena of nature, whence, perhaps, the 
remark of Erasmus: “ Marulli pauca legi tolerahilia, si minus haberent pagani- 
tatis.” 

77 Among the epigrams of Politiano are several of the most outrageous kind, 
against some person whom he attacks under the name of Mabilius ; and in the poems 
of Marullus are some pieces, little inferior in abuse, of which Ecnomus is the sub¬ 
ject. Under these marks it is supposed, and not without reason, that these rival 
scholars directed their shafts against each other. 

78 The letters and orations of this lady were published at Pavia, in 1636, by Jac. 
Ph. Tomasini, who has prefixed to them some account of her life. 

79 Pol. Ep. int. Cass. Fid. ep. 101. 


268 THE LIFE OF [CH. VII. 

whom I presented your respects. She is, indeed, Lorenzo, 
a surprising woman, as well from her acquirements in her 
own language, as in the Latin; and in my opinion she may 
be called handsome. I left her, astonished at her talents. 
She is much devoted to your interests, and speaks of you 
with great esteem. She even avows her intention of visit¬ 
ing you at Florence, so that you may prepare yourself to 
give her a proper reception/’ 80 From a letter of this lady, 
many years afterwards, to Leo X. we learn, that an episto¬ 
lary correspondence had subsisted between her and Lorenzo 
de’ Medici ; 81 and it is with concern we perceive, that the 
remembrance of this intercourse is revived, in order to in¬ 
duce the pontiff to bestow upon her some pecuniary assist¬ 
ance ; she being then a widow, with a numerous train of 
dependents. She lived, however, to a far more advanced 
period, and died in the year 1558, having completed a full 
century. Her literary acquirements, and the reputation of 
her early associates, threw a lustre on her declining years; 
and as her memory remained unimpaired to the last, she 
was resorted to from all parts of Italy, as a living monu¬ 
ment of those happier days, to which the Italians never ad¬ 
verted without regret. 82 

That this attention to serious studies, by which these 
celebrated women distinguished themselves, was the cha¬ 
racteristic of the sex in general, cannot perhaps be with 
truth asserted. Yet the pretensions of the sex to literary 
eminence were not confined to these instances. The Italian 
historians have noticed many other women of high rank 
who obtained by then’ learning no inconsiderable share of 
applause. 83 Politiano celebrates as a tenth muse a lady of 
Sienna, to whom he gives the name of Cecca ; 84 and from 
the numerous pieces in the learned languages, professedly 
addressed to women, we may reasonably infer, that these 
studies were at that time more generally diffused amongst 
them, than they have been at any subsequent period. 


80 V. Pol. Ep. in App. No. XXX. 81 Cass. Fidelis. ep. 123. 

82 Tomasin. in Vita Cassandrae, p. 42. 83 Tiraboschi, vol. vi. parte 2. p. 163. 

84 Mnemosyne, audito Senensis carmine Ceccae, 

Quando, inquit, decima est nata puella mihi ? 


1489.] LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 2G9 

Having thus adverted to some of the principal causes 
which accelerated the progress of classical literature ResuIt of 
in the fifteenth century, and observed the active 
part which Lorenzo de’ Medici took in every sicai lea™- 
transaction that was favourable to its promotion, ir,g ' 
it may now be proper briefly to inquire what was the result 
of exertions so earnestly made, and so long continued; and 
whether the tree, which had been transplanted with so 
much difficulty, and nourished by such constant attention, 
brought forth fruit sufficient to repay the labour bestowed 
upon it. 

One of the first efforts of the Italian scholars was the 
translation of the most eminent Greek authors 
into Latin. Among the earliest and most assiduous 
of these translators is Leonardo Aretino, whose versions of 
various works of Plato, Xenophon, Plutarch, and other 
Greek authors, form a list too extensive to be recognised 
in the present work. 85 The labours of Picino, though not 
so numerous, are yet more voluminous. Some account of 
them is found in a Latin epistle from their author to 
Politiano : “ Why, my friend/’ says Picino, “ have you so 
often desired to know what works I have published ? Is it 
that you may celebrate them in your verses ? But appro¬ 
bation is not due to number so much as to choice, and 
merit is distinguished by quality rather than quantity.” 86 
If Picino had adhered more closely to this maxim, it would 
certainly have diminished nothing of his reputation, which 
is buried under the immense mass of his own labours. The 
earliest production in this department of literature, which 
united elegance with fidelity, is the translation of the 


85 A very full catalogue of the works of Leonardo is given by Laur. Mehus, and 
prefixed to his edition of the letters of this celebrated scholar. Flor. 1741. This 
catalogue comprises no less than sixty-three ditferent productions, many of which 
are translations from the Greek. 

86 His translation of Plato was first printed at Florence without date, and again 
at Venice, 1491. His version of Plotinus, printed by Miscomini, at the expense of 
Lorenzo de’ Medici, though not published till after his death, is a fine specimen of 
typography. At the close we read, 

“ Magnifico sumptu Laurentii Medicis patriae servatoris, impressit ex arehetypo 
Antonius Miscominus Florentiae Anno mcccclxxxxii. Nonis Maii.” 


270 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VII. 

history of Herodian, by Politiano . 87 This work he inscribed 
to Innocent VIII. in a manly and judicious address, in 
which he briefly states the rules that he had prescribed 
to himself in the execution of his work, which are yet 
deserving the notice of all who engage in similar under¬ 
takings . 88 

Prom his early years Politiano had closely attached him¬ 
self to the study of the writings of Homer; and whilst he 
was very young, had begun to translate the Iliad into Latin 
hexameter verse . 89 Whoever is acquainted with the great 
extent of his powers, and the peculiar energy of his Latin 
compositions, will regret that of this monument of his 
industry not a vestige remains. That he had made a con¬ 
siderable progress in this work, appears from many autho¬ 
rities ; and there is even reason to believe that his perseve¬ 
rance finally overcame the difficulties of his undertaking. 
Picino, writing to Lorenzo de’ Medici, and congratulating 
him on the success of his attention to liberal studies, par¬ 
ticularly adverts to the protection afforded by him to 
Politiano, of whose translation of the Grecian bard he 
speaks in those terms of florid adulation which too fre¬ 
quently characterize his letters . 90 Another contemporary 
author has plainly indicated that Politiano completed his 


87 Printed three times in the year 1493, viz. at Rome, at Bologna, by Plato de 
Benedicts, and at the last-mentioned place by Bazalerius de Bazaleriis. Of these 
editions the second is the most esteemed. Maittaire, Ann. Typ. vol. i. p. 558. De 
Bure, Bibl. Inst. No. 4840. 

88 “ Quae sane nostrae fuerunt partes, tentavimus profecto, utinamque etiam effece- 
rimus, uti omnia ex fide responderent, ne inepta peregrinitas, ne graeculae usquam 
figurae, nisi si quae jam pro receptis habentur;, latinam quasi polluerent castitatem ; ut 
eadem propemodum esset linguae utriusque perspicuitas, eaedemque munditiae, idem 
utrohique sensus atque indoles, nulla vocum morositas, nulla anxietas.” Pol. in 
praefat. Ed. Aid. 1498. 

89 An epitome of the Iliad in Latin verse, under the fictitious name of Pindar the 
Theban, is among the MSS. of the Laurentian Lib. (Plut.xxxviii. Cod. xii. 2.) and has 
also been published in the Ed. of Homer by Spondanus, Basil, 1583. Another trans¬ 
lation of the Grecian bard is said to have been executed in the fifteenth century by 
Niccolo Valla, who died at the age of twenty-one years. (P. Cortes, de Horn. doct. 
p. 466. Valerian de Literat. Infel. lib. ii.) A translation of the Iliad into Latin 
prose, by Lorenzo Valla, was published at Brescia, 1474, and Lorenzo was accused 
of having availed himself of a translation made a century before by Leontius 
Pilatus; which translation has also been ascribed to Petrarca. Hod. de Grsec. 
Illust. p. 10. 

90 Fie. Ep. lib. i. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


271 


1489.] 

important task, 91 to the progress of which he has occasion¬ 
ally adverted in his own works. 92 Whether his youthful 
labours fell a sacrifice to the severity of his riper judgment, 
or perished in the general dispersion of the Medicean library, 
of which he lived to be a witness, is a question which must 
yet remain undecided. 

The early part of the fifteenth century was distinguished 
by a warm admiration of the writings of the Italian writ _ 
ancients, and an extreme avidity to possess them. ^ of Latin 
This was succeeded, as might be expected, by an poetry ‘ 
attention to the accuracy of the text, and an ardent desire 
of transfusing their beauties into a language more generally 
known. Towards the latter part of the century a further 
progress was made; and from commenting, and translating, 
the Italians began to emulate these remains of ancient 
genius. Those who distinguished themselves during the 
time of Cosmo and Piero de’ Medici, have already attracted 
some share of our notice; but it must, in general, be ac¬ 
knowledged, that although their labours exhibit at times a 
tolerable knowledge of the mechanical parts of learning, 
and have the body and form of poetic composition, yet the 
animating spirit that should communicate life and motion 
is sought for in vain; or if it be anywhere discoverable, is 
only to be found in the licentious productions of Beccatelli. 
Of that kind of composition which may be called classical, 
modern Italy had seen no examples. The writings of 
Landino, of which specimens have been already Land . no 
given, are however entitled to some share of appro¬ 
bation ; and if they be not marked by any powerful efforts 

91 Amongst the Latin poems of Alessandro Braccio, the contemporary and friend of 
Politiano, and well known by his translation of the works of Appian, is the following 
epigram: 

“ AD LAURENTIUM MEDICEM. 

“ Tempora nostra tihi multum debentia, Laurens, 

Non minus hoc dehent, nohile propter opus, 

Maeonium, duce te quod nuper et auspice, vatem, 

Convertit Latios Angelus in numeros, 

Cumque decore suo, cum majestate legendum, 

Dat nobis qualem Graecia docta legit, 

Ut dubites Latius malit quam Graecus Homerus 
Esse, magis patrius hunc nisi vincit amor.” 

Band. Cat. Lib. Laur. iii. 780. 

92 Pol. Orat. in expositione Homeri. in op. Aid. 1498. 


272 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VII. 

of imagination, nor remind us strongly of the wants of 
others, they possess a flow of language, and a facility of 
diction and versification, much superior to his predecessors. 
A further proficiency was made by Naldo Naldio, or Naldo 
de Naldis, the friend of Ficino and Politiano, and the fre- 
Ugoiino quent panegyrist of the Medici. 93 The poem of 
Verini * Ugolino Verini, “ De Illustratione Urbis Florentiae,” 
is perhaps more valuable for the authenticity of the infor¬ 
mation it communicates, than for its poetical excellence, yet 
Verini has left other testimonies that entitle him to rank 
with the first Latin poets of his age. 94 These pieces are 
principally devoted to the praises of the Medici, and fre¬ 
quently advert to the characters of Lorenzo and Giuliano, 
and to the circumstances of the times. 95 

In Michael Verini, the son of Ugolino, we have a sur- 
Michaei prising instance of early attainments in learning. 
Venm * He was born in 1465; and, although he died at 

53 The poems of Naldio are printed in the “ Selecta Poema Italorum,” vol.yi. p.412. 
Of these the first is addressed, “ Ad Petrum Medicem in obitu magni Cosmi ejus geni- 
toris, qui vere dum vixit optimus Parens Patriae cognominatus fait.” Another of 
the poems of Naldio is addressed to Annalena, a nun, probably the sister-in-law of 
Bernardo Pulci (v. p. 157,) in which the poet laments the death of Albiera Albizzi, the 
wife of Sigismundo Stufa, on whose death Politiano has also left a beautiful Latin 
elegy. It is probable there were two successive authors of this name, whose works 
are inserted in the “ Carmina Illust.” as it can scarcely be supposed that the same 
person who addressed himself to Piero on the death of his father in 1464, and had 
before written a poem to Cosmo on the death of his son John, should be the author 
of the pieces in this collection, which are inscribed to Leo X., who did not enter on 
his pontificate till 1513. Politiano has left the following commendatory epigram on 
the writings of Naldio: 

“ Dum celebrat Medicem Naldus, dum laudat amicam, 

Et pariter gemino raptus amore canit, 

Tam lepidum unanimes illi ornavere libellum, 

Phoebus, Amor, Pallas, Gratia, Musa, Fides.” 

94 The example of Landino in affixing to his poetical labours the name of his mis¬ 
tress (v. p. 58,) was followed by Verini, who gave the title of “ Flametta” to his two 
books of Latin elegies, which he inscribed to Lorenzo de' Medici, and which yet 
remain in the Laurentian library. (Plut. xxxix. cod. 42.) Bandini supposes that 
Landino, as well as many other learned men of those times, had a real object of his 
passion, for which he gives a very satisfactory reason. “ Neque hoc nomen fictum 
esse crediderim, quum revera mihi compertum sit, illius aevi litteratos viros, ut nunc 
quoque accidit, puellas in deliciis habuisse plurimum, in earumque laudem carmina, 
ad instar ilia Ovidii quae amatoria nuncupantur, exarasse.” Band. Spec. Lit. Flor. 
vol. i. p. 120. 

95 In the Laurentian library (Plut. xxvi. cod. 21.) is preserved a poem by Ugolino, 
to which he has given the name of “ Paradisus.” On his imaginary excursion to the 
celestial regions, the poet meets with Cosmo de’ Medici, who converses with him at 
great length on the affairs of Florence, and particularly on the situation of his own 
family. 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


273 


1489.] 

the age of seventeen years, yet in that short space of time, 
he had obtained the admiration and conciliated the esteem 
of his learned contemporaries. His principal work is a 
collection of Latin disticha, which exhibit great facility 
both of invention and expression, and an acquaintance with 
human life and manners far beyond his years. His Latin 
letters, of which a large collection is preserved in the Lau- 
rentian Library, 96 and which are chiefly addressed to his 
father, are as honourable to the paternal kindness of the 
one, as to the filial affection of the other. His death is 
said to have been occasioned by his repugnance to obey the 
prescription of his physicians, who recommended an experi¬ 
ment which it seems his modesty did not approve, and he 
fell a sacrifice to his pertinacious chastity. 97 From his 
letters it appears that both he and his father lived on terms 
of intimacy and friendship with Landino, Bartolomeo Fontio, 
and Politiano, and that Lorenzo de’ Medici occasionally 
passed a leisure hour in convivial intercourse with this 
learned family. 98 

The reputation acquired by the Florentines in the culti¬ 
vation of Latin poetry stimulated the exertions of Other Latin 
other Latin authors. On the memorable occasion Knthclt! 
of the conspiracy of the Pazzi, Platinus Platus, a tUf y- 
Milanese, addressed to Lorenzo de’ Medici a copy of verses 
which obtained his warm approbation. 99 The exertions of 
Lorenzo in establishing the academy at Pisa gave rise to a 
poem of greater merit and importance by Carolus de 

96 Plut. lxxxx. cod. 28. From these letters Bandini has, in his valuable catalogue, 
given copious extracts, vol. iii. p. 462, et seq. 

97 This event has been commemorated both in verse and prose, in Latin and Italian, 
by many contemporary authors. Verini is not the only instance of the kind on record. 
If we may believe Ammirato, the death of the cardinal of Lisbon in 1459 was occa¬ 
sioned by a similar circumstance. (Amm. 1st. Flor. vol. iii. p. 89.) That such a remedy 
had been prescribed to Verini is apparent from the following affecting passage in one 
of his letters : “ Insuperabilis me valitudo confecit, membra ut sint pallore macieque 
deformia; nocte crucior, die non quiesco, et quod me acrius torquet, in tanto dolore 
spes nulla salutis. Quanquam medici, et tota domus, et amici, nihil pericli asserant, 
deprehendo tamen tacitos in vultu timores, suspiria, murmur, taciturnitatem, maeroris 
cuncta signa prospicio; sed cui notior morbus quam mihi ? Quidquid accident, 
utinam forti animo feramus; scio mihi nullum de vita factum restare poenitendum, 
nisi quod potueram valitudini consulere sapientius; verum mihi pudor, vel potius 
rusticitas obfuit—vale.” 

98 Mic. Ver. Ep. 15 ad Sim. Canisianum ap. Band. Cat. vol. iii. p. 483. 

99 These verses are published in the Select. Poem. Ital. vol. vii. p. 256. 

18 


274 


THE LIFE OP 


[CH. VII. 

Maximis. 100 To the authors before mentioned we may add 
the names of Cantalicio, Nicodemo Folengi, Alessandro 
Braccio, and Aurelio Augurelli, all of whom have cultivated 
Latin poetry with different degrees of success, and have 
addressed some portion of their works to Lorenzo de’ Medici, 
to which the reader may not be displeased to refer. 101 

Of all these authors, though some possess a considerable 

Character share of merit, not one of them can contend in 
poetryofTo- point of poetical excellence with Politiano, who 
niiano. i n his composition approaches nearer to the stand¬ 
ard of the ancients than any man of his time; yet, whilst 
he emulates the dignity of Virgil or reminds us of the 
elegance of Horace, he suggests not to our minds the idea 
of servile imitation. Of the character of his writings various 
opinions have indeed been entertained, which have been 
detailed at large by Baillet, and still more copiously by 
Menckenius. 102 It may therefore be sufficient on this occa¬ 
sion to caution the reader against an implicit acquiescence 
in the opinions of two eminent modern authors, who have 
either obliquely censured, or too cautiously approved his 
poetical works. 103 In the attempt made by Politiano to restore 

io° u j) e studio Pisanae urbis et ejus situs maxima felicitate ad Laurentium Medi- 
cem.” This piece is preserved in the Laurentian Library (Plut. lxxxxi. Cod. 46. 
v. Band. Cat. vol. iii. p. 850;) and contains a full, and at the same elegant eulogy 
on the character of Lorenzo, and particularly on his attention to the promotion of 
letters. 

101 The poems of Cantalicio are published in the “ Carmina Illust. Poet. Ital.” vol. iii. 
p. 123, and are inscribed to Lorenzo de’ Medici. Those of Folengi are inserted in 
the same work, vol. iv. p. 419. Alessandro Braccio was equally eminent in politics 
and letters. He was for some time secretary of the Florentine republic, and died on 
an embassy to pope Alexander VI. His translation of Appian into Italian is yet 
highly esteemed, and forms part of the “ Collana,” or series of Italian historical 
works. The Latin poems of Braccio, though very numerous, have not yet been pub¬ 
lished, but are preserved in the Laurentian Library. ( Plut. lxxxxi. Cod. 40, 41.) Many 
of them are inscribed to Lorenzo de’ Medici and other men of eminence, as Landino, 
Ficino, Bartolomeo Scala, Ugolino Verini, &c. (v. Band. Cat. vol. iii. p. 781.) Aurelio 
Augurelli is more generally known. His poems have frequently been published. 
The first edition is that of Verona, 1491, in 4to.; the most correct and elegant, that 
of Aldus, 1505. These poems rank in the first class of modern Latin poetry. For 
an account of several other writers who have celebrated Lorenzo de’ Medici in their 
Latin poems, v. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Med. p. 186. 

108 Baillet, Jugemens des S 5 avans, vol. iv. p. 18. Menck. in Vita Pol. passim. 

103 Tiraboschi, adopting the sentiments of Giraldi, acknowledges that Politiano 
was possessed of a vivid genius, of extensive powers, and of uncommon and diver¬ 
sified erudition; but censures his Latin poetry as deficient in elegance and choice of 
expression. (Tirab. vol. vi. par. 2. p. 234.) Fabroni, adverting to the Italian poetry 
of Politiano, insinuates that the Latin muses were reserved and coy to one who had 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


275 


1489 .] 

a just taste for the literature of the ancients, it is not to be 
denied that he had powerful coadjutors in Pontano and Sa- 
nazaro, 104 whose labours have given to the delightful vicinity 
Naples new pretensions to the appellation of classic ground. 
Nor will it diminish his reputation if we admit that the 
empire which he had founded was in the next century 
extended and secured by the exertions of Pracastoro, Yida, 
Naugerio, and Plaminio, 105 in whom the great poets of the 
Augustan age seem once more to be revived. 

Whilst the study of polite literature was thus emerging 
from its state of reptile torpor, the other sciences General idea 
felt the effects of the same invigorating beam; and future 
the city of Florence, like a sheltered garden, in the in FIorence - 
opening of spring, re-echoed with the earliest sounds of 
returning animation. The Platonic academy existed in full 

obtained the favour of their sister at so early an age, hy his verses on the “ Giostra” of 
Giuliano de’ Medici. (Fabr. in Vita Laur. p. 157.) To oppose to these opinions the au¬ 
thority of many other eminent men who have mentioned the Latin writings of Politiano 
with almost unlimited praise, would only he to detail the compilations of Baillet or 
Menckenius. But the works of Politiano are yet open to the inspection of the inquisitive 
scholar; and though certainly unequal in point of merit, perhaps according to the time 
of life at which they were produced, will be found, upon the whole, to possess a vigour 
of sentiment, a copiousness of imagination, and a classical elegance of expression, 
which, if considered with reference to the age in which he lived, entitle them to the 
highest esteem. 

104 Giacopo Sanazaro, or, hy his academical appellation, Actius Sincerus Sanazarius, 
was a Neapolitan, born in the year 1458, and equally eminent hy his Italian and Latin 
compositions. In the former, his reputation is chiefly founded on his “ Arcadiain 
the latter, on his poem in three hooks, “ De partu Virginis,” which is allowed, how¬ 
ever, to he greatly blemished by the introduction of the Pagan deities to the mysteries 
of the Christian religion. 

105 I cannot mention these names without regretting the limits to which I am 
necessarily confined. The rivals of Virgil, of Ovid, and of Catullus, ought not, in 
a work that touches on the rise of letters, to be commemorated at the foot of a page. 
The “ Syphilis” of Fracastoro, “ sive de Morbo Gallico,” though an unpromising 
subject, is beyond comparison the finest Latin poem that has appeared since the times 
of the ancients. The writings of Vida are more generally known, and would be entitled 
to higher applause, if they did not too frequently discover to the classical reader an 
imitation of the ancients that borders on servility. Naugerio was a noble Venetian 
who died young on an embassy from the republic. In his last moments he destroyed 
all his writings then in his possession, as not being sufficiently correct for the public 
eye; but the few that had been previously distributed among his friends were collected 
and published by them after his death, and breathe the true spirit of poetry. In 
Flaminio we have the simplicity and tenderness of Catullus without his licentiousness. 
To those who are acquainted with his writings, it will not be thought so extravagant 
to assert, that many of them, in the species of composition to which they are confined, 
were never excelled. The question addressed by him to a friend respecting the 
writings of Catullus, “ Quando leggete—non vi sentite voi liquefare il cuore di dol- 
cezza ?” may with confidence be repeated to all those who are conversant with his 
works. 


270 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VTI. 

splendour, and served as a common bond to unite, at stated 
intervals, those who had signalized themselves by scientific 
or literary pursuits. The absurd pretensions of judicial 
astrology were freely examined and openly exposed; and 
observation and experiment were at length substituted in 
the place of conjecture and of fraud. 106 Paolo Toscanelli had 
already erected his celebrated Gnomon. 107 Lorenzo da Vol- 
paja constructed for Lorenzo de 5 Medici a clock, or piece of 
mechanism, which not only marked the hour of the day, but 
the motions of the sun and of the planets, the eclipses, the 
signs of the zodiac, and the whole revolutions of the hea¬ 
vens. 108 A laudable attempt was made Ly Francesco Ber- 
linghieri to facilitate the study of geography by uniting it 
with poetry. 109 In metaphysics several treatises made their 
appearance, some of which are inscribed by their authors to 
Lorenzo de’ Medici. 110 His efforts to promote the important 
science of medicine, and to rescue it from the absurdities in 
which it was enveloped, are acknowledged by several of its 
most eminent professors, who cultivated it on more liberal 
principles, and have attributed their proficiency to his 


106 Pico of Mirandula was one of the first who entered the lists against this for¬ 
midable adversary of real knowledge, in his treatise in twelve hooks, “ Adversus 
Astrologos,” which is found in the general collection of his works. Ven. 1498. 

107 This Gnomon, which has justly been denominated the noblest astronomical 
instrument in the world, was erected by Toscanelli, about the year 1460, for the 
purpose of determining the solstices, and thereby ascertaining the feasts of the 
Romish church. It is fixed in the cupola of the church of S. Maria del Fiore, 
at the height of 277 Parisian feet. A small orifice transmits from that distance 
the rays of the sun to a marble flag, placed in the floor of the church. This instrument 
was, in the present century, corrected and improved at the instance of M. de la 
Condamine, who acknowledges it to be a striking proof of the capacity and extended 
views of its authors. 

108 Politiano has left a very particular description of this curious piece of ma¬ 
chinery. (Ep. lib. iv. ep. 8.) A singular spectacle was also devised by Lorenzo de’ 
Medici for the amusement of the populace, a memorial of which is preserved in a 
poem by Naldio, (Carm. Illust. vol. vi. p. 436,) entitled, “ Elegia in septem Stellas 
errantes sub humana specie per urbem Florentinam curribus a Laurentio Medice 
Patriae Patre duci jussas, more triumphantium.” From this poem we learn that the 
planets were personified and distinguished by their proper attributes, and that they 
performed their evolutions to the sound of music, with verses explanatory of their 
motions and supposed qualities. 

109 The “ Geografia” of Berlinghieri was published with maps at Florence in the 
year 1480. 

110 Niccolo Fulginato addressed to Lorenzo his treatise “De Ideis,” which yet 
remains in manuscript in the Laurentian Library, (Plut. lxxxii. cod. 22. Band. Cat. 
vol. iii. p. 201;) and Leonardo Nogarola a work entitled “ De Immortalitate Animse.” 
(Plut. lxxxiii. cod. 22. Band. Cat. vol. iii. p. 219.) 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


277 


1489.] 

bounty. 111 In the practice and theory of music, Antonio 
Squarcialupi excelled all his predecessors; and Lorenzo is 
said to have written a poem in his praise. 113 His liberality 
was emulated by many other illustrious citizens who were 
allied to him by affinity, or attached by the ties of friend¬ 
ship and of kindred studies, and the innumerable literary 
works of this period, the production of Florentine authors, 
evince the success that attended their exertions. Of these 
works many yet hold a high rank, not only for practical 
knowledge, but for purity of diction; and upon the whole 
they bear the stamp of industry, talents, and good sense. 
And as they certainly excel, both in point of information 
and composition, the productions that immediately preceded 
them, so they are perhaps justly to be preferred to many of 
those of the ensuing century; when, by an overstrained 
attention to the beauty of language, the importance of the 
subject was frequently neglected or forgotten, and the talents 
of the first men of the age, being devoted rather to words 
than to things, were overwhelmed in a prolixity of lan¬ 
guage, that in the form of letters, orations, and critical 
dissertations, became the opprobrium of literature and the 
destruction of true taste. 

111 Bernardus de Torniis, dedicating to Giovanni de’ Medici, when a cardinal, his 
treatise “ de Cihis Quadragesimalibus, ,, thus addresses him: “ Laurentius, pater tuus, 
Reverendissime Domine, tanta erga me utitur humanitate, ac tot beneficiis Tornium 
adstringit, ut filiis totique domui, perpetuo me debere prolitear. Degustavi nutu ejus 
medicinalem scientiam, neque sui caussa defuit quidquam, quo ad illius apicem 
potuerim pervenire.” (Band. Cat. vol. i. p. 659.) 

112 This I mention on the authority of Mr. Tenhove. “ En fait de musique,” says he, 
giving an account of Leo Bat. Alberti, “ il ne cedait qu’au seul Antoine Squarcialupo. 
J’ai sous les yeux un poeme que Laurent de Medicis fit en l’honneur de ce dernier; 
car quel est le genre de talens au quel Medicis ne faisait pas accueil ?” 



Tie device asnmed iryLorenz o de' Medici. 



The labile of Anibra.as carved on an Amber Has clietlo, frcrca 
tiie Original former^ l)ebanoing to Lorenzo de Medici. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

1490. 

Domestic character of Lorenzo de' Medici—Accused of being addicted to licentious 
amours—Children of Lorenzo—His conduct towards them—Politiano accompanies 
them to Pistoia—They remove to Caffagiolo—Dissensions between Politiano and 
Madonna Clarice—He retires to Fiesole and writes his poem entitled Rusticus— 
Piero de' Medici—Giovanni de' Medici—Lorenzo discharges his debts and quits 
commerce for agriculture—Villa of Poggio-Cajano — Careggi—Fiesole and other 
domains—Piero visits the Pope—Giovanni raised to the dignity of a cardinal — 
Admonitory letter of Lorenzo—Piero marries Alfonsina Orsini—Visits Milan — 
Learned ecclesiastics favoured by Lorenzo—Mariano Gennazano—Girolamo Savo¬ 
narola—Matteo Bosso—Death of Madonna Clarice—Assassination of Girolamo 
Riario—Tragical death of Galeotto Manfredi, prince of Faenza. 


Haying hitherto traced the conduct of Lorenzo de’ Me- 
Domestic dici i 11 public life, we may now be allowed to follow 
character of him to his domestic retreat, and observe him in 
the intercourse of his family, the education of his 
children, or the society of his friends. The mind of man 
varies with his local situation, and before it can be justly 
estimated must be viewed in those moments when it ex¬ 
pands in the warmth of confidence, and exhibits its true 
colours in the sunshine of affection. Whether it was from 
the suggestion of policy, or the versatility of his natural 
disposition, that Lorenzo de’ Medici turned with such faci¬ 
lity from concerns of high importance to the discussion of 
subjects of amusement and the levity of convivial inter¬ 
course, certain it is, that few persons have displayed this 
faculty in so eminent a degree. “ Think not,” says Poli- 



LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


279 


1490 .] 

tiano, writing to his friend, 1 “ that any of our learned asso¬ 
ciates, even they who have devoted their lives to study, 
are to be esteemed superior to Lorenzo de’ Medici, either 
for acuteness in disputation or for good sense in forming 
a just decision; or that he yields to any of them in express¬ 
ing his thoughts with facility, variety, and elegance. The 
examples of history are as familiar to him as the attendants 
that surround his table; and when the nature of his subject 
admits of it, his conversation is abundantly seasoned with 
the salt collected from that ocean from which Venus herself 
first sprung.” 2 His talent for irony was peculiar, and folly 
and absurdity seldom escaped his animadversion. 3 In the 
collections formed by the Florentines of the motti e burle of 
celebrated men, Lorenzo bears a distinguished part; but 
when expressions adapted to the occasion of a moment are 
transplanted to the page of a book, and submitted to the 
cool consideration of the closet, they too often remind us of 
a flower cropt from its stalk to be preserved in arid de¬ 
formity. Possibly, too, those who have assumed the task 
of selection may not have been accurate in their choice, and 
perhaps the celebrity of his name may have been an induce¬ 
ment to others to attribute to him witticisms unworthy of 
his character. Yet the bon-mots of Lorenzo may rank with 
many of those which have been published with importance 
and read with avidity. 4 Grazzini has also introduced this 

1 Ang. Polit. Lodovico Odaxio. Ep. lib. iii. ep. 6. 

3 -Lususque Salesque, 

Sedlectas pelago, quo Venus orta sales, 

says Jacques Moisant, Sieur de Brieux, v. Menagiana, tom. i. p. 59, where the author 
lias traced this sentiment from Plutarch to Politiano, and downwards to Victorius, 
Heinsius, and de Brieux. “ Quelque belle et fine, au reste,” says he, “ que soit cette 
pensee, usee aujourd’hui comme elle est, on n’oserait plus la repeter.’’ 

3 “ Quum jocabatur, nihil hilarius; quum mordehat nihil asperius.” Valori in 
Vita, p. 14. 

4 Several of them are related by Valori, and many others may be found in the 
“ Facetie, Motti, et Burle, di diversi Signori, &c. Raccolte per Lod. Domenichi." Ven. 
1588. One of his kinsmen, remarkable for his avarice, having boasted that he had 
at his villa a plentiful stream of fine water, Lorenzo replied, “ If so, you might afford 
to keep cleaner hands." Bartolomeo Soccini, of Sienna, having observed, in allu¬ 
sion to the defect in Lorenzo’s sight, that the air of Florence wsls injurious to the 
eyes ; “ True," said Lorenzo, “ and that of Sienna to the brain." Being interrogated 
by Ugolino Martelli, why he rose so late in the morning, Lorenzo in return inquired 
from Martelli, why he rose so soon, and finding that it w r as to employ himself 
in trifles, “ My morning dreams," said Lorenzo, “ are better than thy morning’s busi- 



280 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VIII. 

eminent man as amusing himself with a piece of meditated 
jocularity, in order to free himself from the importunate 
visits of a physician who too frequently appeared at his 
table; but for the veracity of this narrative we have only 
the authority of a professed novelist. 5 Nor is it likely that 
Lorenzo, though he frequently indulged in the license al¬ 
lowed by the Roman satirist, would have forgotten the 
precaution with which it is accompanied, 6 or would have 
misemployed his time and his talents in contriving and 
executing so insipid and childish an entertainment. 

Although there is reason to believe that Clarice Orsini, 
Accused of the wife of Lorenzo, w T as not the object of his early 
edtoHcenti- passion, yet that he lived with her in uninter- 
ous amours, rupted affection, and treated her on all occasions 
with the respect due to her rank and her virtues, appears 
from many circumstances. He has not, however, escaped 
an imputation which has sometimes attached itself to names 
of great celebrity, and which indeed too often taints the 
general mass of excellence with the leaven of human nature. 
“ Such a combination of talents and of virtues,” says Ma- 
chiavelli, “ as appeared in Lorenzo de’ Medici was not 
counterbalanced by a single fault, although he was incre¬ 
dibly devoted to the indulgence of an amorous passion.” 7 
In asserting a particular defect, it is remarkable that the 


ness.” When Soccini eloped from Florence, to evade his engagements as professor of 
civil law there, and being taken and brought back, was committed to prison, he com¬ 
plained that a man of his eminence should undergo such a shameful punishment. 
“ You should remember,” said Lorenzo, “ that the shame is not in the punishment, 
but in the crime.” Val. p. 14. Dorn. p. 121, &c. 

5 Anton-Francesco Grazzini, detto II Lasca. Novelle, Ed. Lond. 1756. La terza 
Cena, Nov. x. The argumeut of this novel is as follows : “ Lorenzo vecchio de’ 
Medici da due travestiti, fa condurre Maestro Manente ubriaco una sera dopo cena 
segretamente nel suo palagio, e quivi e altrove lo tiene, senza sapere egli dove sia, 
lungo tempo al bujo facendogli portar mangiare da due immascherati; dopo per via 
del Monaco buffone, da a credere alle persone, lui esser morto di peste, perciocche 
cavato di casa sua un morto in suo scambio lo fa dissotterare. II Magnifico poi con 
modo stravagante manda via Maestro Manente, il quale finalmente creduto morto da 
ognuno, arriva in Firenze, dove la moglie, pensando che fusse Y anima sua, lo caccia 
via come se fusse lo spirito, e dalla gente avuto la corsa, trova solo Burchiello, che lo 
riconosce, e piatendo prima la moglie in Vescovado, e poi alii Otto e rimesso la causa 
in Lorenzo, il quale fatto venire Nepo da Galatrona, fa veder alle persone, ogni cosa 
esser intervenuta al Medico per forza d’ incanti; sicche riavuta la donna, Maestro 
Manente piglia per suo avvocato San Cipriano.” 

6 “ Nec lusisse pudet—sed non incidere ludum.”—Hor. Ep. lib. i. 

7 Hist. Flor. lib. viii. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


281 


1490.] 

historian admits it not as an exception to his general ap¬ 
probation. Yet it is not to be denied, that if such an ac¬ 
cusation were established, it would be difficult to apologize 
for Lorenzo, although the manners of the age and the viva¬ 
city of his natural disposition might be urged in extenuation 
of his misconduct. In justice, however, to his character, it 
must be observed, that the history of the times furnishes us 
with no information, either as to the circumstances attend¬ 
ing his amours or the particular objects of his passion ; 8 nor 
indeed does there appear, from the testimony of his con¬ 
temporaries, any reason to infer that he is justly charged 
with this deviation from the rules of virtue and of de¬ 
corum. 9 Probably this imputation is founded only on a 
presumption arising from the amorous tendency of some of 
his poetical writings; and certain it is, that if the offspring 
of imagination and the effusions of poetry be allowed to 
decide, the grounds of his conviction may be found in 
almost every line. It may perhaps be observed that these 
pieces were chiefly the productions of his youth, before the 
restrictions of the marriage vow had suppressed the breath¬ 
ings of passion; but how shall we elude the inference which 
arises from the following lines ? 

Teco 1’ avessi il ciel donna congiunto 
In matrimonio: ah che pria non venisti 
A1 mondo, o io non son piu tardo giunto ? 

O that the marriage bond had join’d our fate, 

Nor I been born too soon, nor thou too late! 

Or from these, which are still more explicit ? 

Ma questo van pensiero a che soggiorno ? 

Se tu pur dianzi, ed io fui un tempo avanti, 

Dal laccio conjugal legato intorno ? 

But why these thoughts irrelevant and vain ! 

If I, long since in Hymen’s fetters tied, 

Am doom’d to hear another call thee bride ? 

» Tenhove, Mem. Geneal. de laMaison de Medicis, liv. xi. p. 143. 

9 In the poem of Brandolini, (De laudibus Laur. Med.) the attention of 
Lorenzo to the dictates of morality and decorum, as well in himself as others, 
is the particular subject of panegyric, and that by a contemporary writer. Had the 
conduct of Lorenzo been notoriously licentious, such praise would have been the 
severest satire. 


282 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VIII. 

Nor must it be denied that this elegiac fragment, though 
incorrect and unfinished, is distinguished by that pathos 
and glow of expression which genuine passion can alone 
inspire. 10 If in this piece Lorenzo be amorous, in others 
he is licentious; and if we admit the production of a mo¬ 
ment of levity as the evidence of his feelings, the only regret 
that he experienced was from the reflection that he had, in 
the course of his past time, imprudently neglected so many 
opportunities of collecting the sweets that were strewn in 
his way. 11 But shall we venture to infer, that because 
Lorenzo wrote amorous verses and amused himself with jeucc 
d’esprit, his life was dissolute and his conduct immoral? 
“ As poetry is the flower of science,” says Menage, “ so 
there is not a single person of education who has not com¬ 
posed, or at least wished to compose, verses; and as love is 
a natural passion, and poetry is the language of love, so 
there is no one who has written verses who has not felt the 
effects of love.” If we judge with such severity, what will 
become of the numerous throng of poets who have thought 
it sufficient to allege in their justification, that if 

Their verse was wanton, yet their lives were chaste ? 

or what shall we say to the extensive catalogue of learned 
ecclesiastics who have endeavoured to fill the void of celi¬ 
bacy by composing verses on subjects of love? 12 

Whatever may be thought of the conduct or the senti- 
Children of ments of Lorenzo on this head, it does not appear 
Lorenzo. that he left any offspring of illicit love; but by his 
wife Clarice he had a numerous progeny, of which three 
sons and four daughters arrived at the age of maturity. 
Piero, his eldest son, was born on the 15th day of February, 
1471; Giovanni, on the 11th day of December, 1475; 


10 Vide this piece entitled “ Elegia,” in the poems of Lorenzo, published at the end 
of this volume. 

11 See the piece entitled “ La Confessione,” also printed among his poems at the 
end of this volume. 

12 For this catalogue, from Heliodorus, bishop of Tricca, in Thessaly, to M. du Bois, 
doctor in theology at Paris, the reader may consult the “ Anti Baillet,” of M. Menage, 
written by him when upwards of seventy years of age; the most singular instance of 
industry, wit, vanity, and learning, that the annals of literature can produce. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


283 


1490.] 


and Giuliano, his youngest, in 1478. Of these, the first 
was distinguished by a series of misfortunes, too justly 
merited, the two latter by an unusual degree of prosperity: 
Giovanni having obtained the dignity of the Tiara, which 
he wore by the name of Leo X., and Giuliano having allied 
himself by marriage to the royal house of France, and ob¬ 
tained the title of duke of Nemours. 

In no point of view does the character of this extra¬ 
ordinary man appear more engaging than in his His con 
affection towards his children, in his care of their duct towards 
education, and in his solicitude for their welfare. 

In their society he relaxed from his important occupations, 
and accustomed himself to share their pleasures and pro¬ 
mote their amusements. 13 By what more certain means 
can a parent obtain that confidence so necessary to enable 
him to promote the happiness of his children ? The office 
of an instructor of youth he considered as of the highest 
importance. “If,” says he, “ we esteem those who con¬ 
tribute to the prosperity of the state, we ought to place in 
the first rank the tutors of our children, whose labours are to 
influence posterity, and on whose precepts and exertions the 
dignity of our family and of our country in a great measure 
depends.” 

Soon after the conspiracy of the Pazzi, when Lorenzo 
thought it expedient to remove his family to Pistoia, pomiano 
they were accompanied by Politiano, as the in- 
structor of his sons, who gave frequent information toia - 
to his patron of their situation and the progress made in 
the education of his children. These confidential letters 
enable us to form a more accurate idea of the disposition of 
their author, than we can collect from any of his writings 
intended for publication. Restless, impatient of control, 
and conceiving all merit to be concentered in the acqui- 


13 <<-Si dilettasse d’ huomini faceti e mordaci, & di giuochi puerili, piu che a 

tanto huomo non pareva si convenisse; in modo che molte volte fu visto tra i suoi 
figliuoli e figliuole, tra i loro trastulli mescolarsi.” (Mac. Hist. lib. viii.) On this subject 
I must not omit the comment of the interesting and elegant Tenhove: “ Est il un 
spectacle plus touchant que celui de voir un tel homme deposer le fardeau de la gloire 
au sein de la nature ? A des yeux non vicies Laurent de Medicis par ait bien grande, 
et bien aimable lorsqu’il joue a croix et pile avec le petit due de Nemours, ou qu’il se 
roule a terre avec Leon X.” Tenh. Mem. Geneal. lib. xi. p. 142. 


284 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VIII. 

sition of learning, he could brook no opposition to his au¬ 
thority. The intervention of Madonna Clarice in the di¬ 
rection of her children, was in his judgment impertinent, 
because she was unlettered, and a woman. In one of his 
letters, he earnestly requests that Lorenzo will delegate to 
him a more extensive power; whilst in another, written on 
the same day, he acknowledges that this request was made 
under the impulse of passion, and solicits indulgence for 
the infirmity of his temper. The subsequent eminence of 
his pupils renders these letters interesting. 14 What friend 
of literature can be indifferent to the infancy of Leo the 
Tenth? “ Piero,” says Politiano, “attends to his studies 
with tolerable diligence. We daily make excursions through 
the neighbourhood, we visit the gardens with which this 
city abounds, and sometimes look into the library of Maestro 
Zambino, where I have found some good pieces both in 
Greek and Latin. Giovanni rides out on horseback, and 
They remove the people follow him in crowds.” Prom Pistoia 
to caffagioio. the family retired in the close of the year to Caffa- 
giolo, where they passed the winter; from whence Politiano 
continued his correspondence with Lorenzo, and occasion¬ 
ally addressed himself to his mother, Madonna Lucretia, 
between whom and this eminent scholar, there subsisted a 
friendly and confidential intercourse. These letters afford 
an additional proof of the querulousness of genius, and may 
serve to reconcile mediocrity to its placid insignificance. 15 
“ The only news I can send you,” thus he writes to this 
lady, “ is, that we have here such continual rains, that it 
is impossible to quit the house, and the exercises of the 
country are changed for childish sports within doors. Here 
I stand by the fire-side, in my great coat and slippers, that 
you might take me for the very figure of melancholy. In¬ 
deed, I am the same at all times; for I neither see, nor 
hear, nor do anything that gives me pleasure, so much am 
I affected by the thoughts of our calamities; sleeping and 
waking they still continue to haunt me. Two days since 
we were all rejoicing upon hearing that the plague had 

14 They are given from the collection of Fabroni, in the Appendix, No. XXXII. 

15 Vide Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 193. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


285 


1490.] 

ceased;—now we are depressed on being informed that 
some symptoms of it yet remain. Were we at Florence we 
should have some consolation, were it only that of seeing 
Lorenzo when he returned to his house; but here we are in 
continual anxiety, and I, for my part, am half dead with 
solitude and weariness. The plague and the war are inces¬ 
santly in my mind. I lament past misfortunes, and anti¬ 
cipate future evils; and I have no longer at my side my 
dear Madonna Lucretia, to whom I might unbosom my 
cares.” Such is the melancholy strain in which Politiano 
addresses the mother of Lorenzo; but we seldom complain 
except to those we esteem; and this letter is a better evi¬ 
dence of the feelings of Politiano than a volume of well- 
turned compliments. 

In conciliating the regard of Clarice, Politiano was not 
equally fortunate. Her interference with him in Dissensions 
his office appeared to him an unpardonable in- 
trusion. “ As for Giovanni,” says he, “ his mother donnaciarice. 
employs him in reading the psalter, which I by no means 
commend. Whilst she declined interfering with him, it is 
astonishing how rapidly he improved; insomuch that he 
read without assistance. There is nothing,” he proceeds, 
“ which I ask more earnestly of Heaven, than that I may 
be able to convince you of my fidelity, my diligence, and 
my patience, which I would prove even by my death. 
Many things however I omit, that amidst your numerous 
avocations I may not add to your solicitude.” When Poli¬ 
tiano wrote thus to his patron, it is not to be supposed that 
his conduct at Caffagiolo was distinguished by moderation 
or complacency. The dissensions between him and Ma¬ 
donna Clarice consequently increased, till at length the in¬ 
temperance or the arrogance of Politiano afforded her a just 
pretext for compelling him to quit the house. By a letter 
from Clarice to her husband on this occasion, we are in¬ 
formed of the provocation which she received, and must 
confess that she had sufficient cause for the measures she 
adopted; for what woman can bear with patience the stings 
of ridicule? 16 “ I shall be glad,” says she, “ to escape 

16 The letter of Clarice to her husband is given in the Appendix, No. XXXIII. 


286 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VIII. 

being made the subject of a tale of Franco’s as Luigi Pulci 
was; nor do I like that Messer Agnolo should threaten 
that he would remain in the house in spite of me. You 
remember I told you, that if it was your will he should 
stay, I was perfectly contented; and although I have suf¬ 
fered infinite abuse from him, yet if it be with your assent, 
I am satisfied. But I do not believe it to be so.” On this 
trying occasion, as on many others, Politiano experienced 
the indulgence and friendship of Lorenzo, who, seeing that 
a reconciliation between the contending parties was imprac- 
poiitiano ticable, allowed the banished scholar a residence in 
reures to h ouse at Fiesole. No longer fretted by female 
writes his opposition, or wearied with the monotonous task 
tied “ Rus- of inculcating learning, his mind soon recovered 
ticus ” its natural tone; and the fruits of the leisure which 
he enjoyed yet appear in a beautiful Latin poem, inferior in 
its kind only to the Georgies of Virgil, and to which he 
gave the title of “ Rusticus.” In the close of this poem, he 
thus expresses his gratitude to his constant benefactor: 

Talia Fesuleo lentus meditabar in antro, 

Rure sub urbano Medicum, qua mons sacer urbem 
Maeoniam, longique volumina despicit Arni. 

Qua bonus hospitium felix, placidamque quietem 
Indulget Laurens, Laurens haud ultima Phcebi 
Gloria, jactatis Laurens fida anchora musis; 

Qui si certa magis premiserit otia nobis, 

Afflabor majore Deo.— 


Thus flow the strains, whilst here at ease reclined 
At length the sweets of calm repose I find; 
Where Fesule, with high impending brow, 
O’erlooks Maeonian Florence stretch’d below: 
Whilst Arno, winding through the mild domain, 
Leads in repeated folds his lengthen’d train; 

Nor thou thy poet’s grateful strain refuse, 
Lorenzo ! sure resource of every muse; 

Whose praise, so thou his leisure hour prolong, 
Shall claim the tribute of a nobler song. 


Were we to give implicit credit to the testimony of his 
Piero de’ tutor, Piero de’ Medici united in himself all the 
Medici. great qualities by which his progenitors had been 
successively distinguished: “ The talents of his father, the 
virtues of his grandfather, and the prudence of the vene- 



LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


287 


1490 .] 

rable Cosmo .” 17 Lorenzo himself had certainly formed a 
favourable opinion of his capacity, and is said to have re¬ 
marked that his eldest son would be distinguished for 
ability, his second for probity, his third by an amiable 
temper . 18 The fondness of a parent was gratified in ob¬ 
serving those instances of an extraordinary memory which 
Piero displayed in his childhood, and in listening to the 
poetical pieces which he was accustomed to recite to the 
familiar circle of friends who perhaps admired, and certainly 
applauded his efforts. Among these were some of the 
whimsical productions of Matteo Franco. As he advanced 
in years, his father was desirous that he should always par¬ 
ticipate in the conversation of those eminent scholars who 
frequented the palace of the Medici; and it was with plea¬ 
sure that Lorenzo saw the mutual attachment that subsisted 
between his son and the professors of literature in general . 19 
The celebrated epistles of Politiano, which were collected by 
their author at the instance of Piero, and to whom they are 
inscribed in terms of grateful affection, bear ample testi¬ 
mony to his acquirements; and the frequent mention made 
of his name by the learned correspondents of Politiano is a 
convincing proof of his attention to their interests and his 
attachment to the cause of letters. Happy if the day that 
opened with such promising appearances had not been seen 
so suddenly overclouded; 

-Sed zephyri spes portavere patemas; 

and Piero, by one inconsiderate step, which his subsequent 
efforts could never retrieve, rendered ineffectual all the soli¬ 
citude of his father and all the lessons of his youth. 

Giovanni, the second son of Lorenzo, was destined from 
his infancy to the church. Early brought forward Giovanni 
into public view, and strongly impressed with a de ’ Medici * 
sense of the necessity of a grave deportment, he seems 
never to have been a child. At seven years of age he was 
admitted into holy orders, and received the tonsura from 

17 Pol. Ep. lib. xii. ep. 6. 18 Valori in Vita Laur. p. 64. 

19 Landino, in his dedication of the works of Virgil to Piero de’ Medici, adverts to 
the attention of Lorenzo to the education of his children, and particularly of Piero. 



288 


THE LIFE OF 


fcH. VIII. 


Gentile, bishop of Arezzo. From thenceforth he was called 
Messer Giovanni, and was soon afterwards declared capable 
■ of ecclesiastical preferment. Before he was eight years of 
age he was appointed by Louis XI. of France, abbot of 
Fonte Dolce, which was immediately succeeded by a pre¬ 
sentation from the same patron to the archbishopric of Aix 
in Provence; but in this instance the liberality of the king 
was opposed by an invincible objection, for before the in¬ 
vestiture could be obtained from the pope, information was 
received at Florence that the archbishop was yet living. 
This disappointment was however compensated by the 
abbacy of the rich monastery of Pasignano . 20 Of the glar¬ 
ing indecorum of bestowing spiritual functions on a child, 
Lorenzo was fully sensible, and he accordingly endeavoured 
to counteract the unfavourable impression which it might 
make on the public mind, by inculcating upon his son the 
strictest attention to his manners, his morals, and his im¬ 
provement. He had too much sagacity not to be con¬ 
vinced, that the surest method of obtaining the rewards of 
merit is to deserve them; and Messer Giovanni was not 
more distinguished from his youthful associates by the high 
promotions which he enjoyed, than he was by his attention 
to his studies, his strict performance of the duties enjoined 
him, and his inviolable regard to truth. 

In providing for the expenses of the wars in which the 
Lorenzo dis- Florentines had been engaged, considerable debts 
debts, es and had been incurred: and as they had not yet learned 
merce CO for H ie destructive expedient of anticipating their future 
agriculture, revenue, or transferring their own burthens to their 
posterity, it became necessary to provide for the payment 
of these demands. Besides the debts, contracted in the 
name of the republic, Lorenzo had been obliged to have 
recourse to his agents in different countries to borrow large 
sums of money, which had been applied to the exigencies 
of the state f but it was no improbable conjecture, that 
the money which had been lavishly expended during the 


20 These particulars are circumstantially related in the Ricordi of Lorenzo, who 
seems to have interested himself in the early promotion of his son with uncommon 
earnestness, v. App. No. XXXIV. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


289 


1490 .] 

heat of the contest, would be repaid with reluctance when 
the struggle was over^/ These considerations occasioned 
him great anxiety; for whilst, on the one hand, he dreaded 
the disgrace of being wanting in the performance of his 
pecuniary engagements, he was not perhaps less apprehen¬ 
sive, on the other hand, of diminishing his influence in 
Florence by the imposition of additional taxes. From this 
difficulty he saw no possibility of extricating himself, but 
by the most rigid attention, as well to the improvement of 
the public revenue, as to the state of his own concerns. 
The increasing prosperity of the city of Florence seconded 
his efforts, and in a short time the creditors of the state 
were fully reimbursed, without any increase of the public 
burthens. His own engagements yet remained incomplete; 
but whilst he was endeavouring from his large property and 
extensive concerns to discharge the demands against him, a 
decree providing for the payment of his debts out of the 
public treasury relieved him from his difficulties, and proved 
that the affection of his fellow-citizens yet remained unim¬ 
paired . 21 Lorenzo did not, however, receive this mark of 
esteem ’without bitterly exclaiming against the negligence 
and imprudence of his factors and correspondents, who, by 
their inattention to his affairs, had reduced him to the 
necessity of accepting such a favour. From this period he 
determined to close his mercantile concerns with all pos¬ 
sible expedition, well considering, that besides the inherent 
uncertainty of these transactions, the success of them de¬ 
pended too much on the industry and integrity of others. 
He therefore resolved to turn his attention to occupations 
more particularly under his own inspection, and to relin¬ 
quish the fluctuating advantages of commerce for the more 
certain revenue derived from the cultivation of his rich farms 
and extensive possessions in different parts of Tuscany. 

His villa of Poggio-Cajano was, in his intervals of leisure, 
his favourite residence. Here he erected a mag- viiiaorpog- 
nificent mansion, and formed the complete esta- g' ,o - Ca j ano * 
blishment of a princely farmer. Of this fertile domain, 

21 Valori in Vita Laur. p. 38; and v. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, 

p. 188 . 


19 


290 THE LIFE OF [CH. VIII. 

and of the labours of Lorenzo in its cultivation and 
improvement one of his contemporaries has left a very 
particular and authentic description . 23 “The village of 
Cajano,” says he, “ is built on the easy slope of a hill, and 
is at the distance of about ten miles from Florence. The 
road to it from the city is very spacious, and excellent even 
in winter, and is in every respect suitable for all kinds of 
carriages. The river Ombrone winds round it with a 
smooth deep stream, affording great plenty of fish. The 
villa of Lorenzo is denominated Ambra , either from the 
name of the river, or on account of its extraordinary beauty. 
His fields are occasionally refreshed with streams of fine 
and wholesome water, which Lorenzo, with that magnifi¬ 
cence which characterizes all his undertakings, has conveyed 
by an aqueduct over mountains and precipices for many 
miles. The house is not yet built, but the foundations are 
laid. Its situation is midway between Florence and Pistoia. 
Towards the north a spacious plain extends to the river, 
and is protected from the floods, which sudden rains some¬ 
times occasion, by an immense embankment. From the 
facility with which it is watered in summer, it is so fertile, 
that three crops of hay are cut in each year; but it is 
manured every other year, lest the soil should be exhausted. 
On an eminence about the middle of the farm are very 
extensive stables, the floors of which, for the sake of clean¬ 
liness, are laid with stone. These buildings are surrounded 
with high walls and a deep moat, and have four towers 
like a castle. Here are kept a great number of most fertile 
and productive cows, which afford a quantity of cheese, 
equal to the supply of the city and vicinity of Florence; so 
that it is now no longer necessary to procure it as formerly 
from Lombardy. A brood of hogs fed by the whey grow 
to a remarkable size. The villa abounds with quails and 
other birds, particularly water fowl, so that the diversion of 
fowling is enjoyed here without fatigue. Lorenzo has also 
furnished the woods with pheasants and with peacocks, 
which he procured from Sicily. His orchards and gardens 


22 Mic. Verini Ep. xvi. ap. Band. Cat. Bib. Laur. vol. iii. p. 483. 


LORENZO DE ? MEDICI, 


291 


1490.] 

are most luxuriant, extending along the banks of the river. 
His plantation of mulberry trees is of such extent, that we 
may hope ere long to have a diminution in the price of silk. 
But why should I proceed in my description ? come and 
see the place yourself; and you will acknowledge, like the 
queen of Sheba when she visited Solomon, that the report 
is not adequate to the truth.” 

Like the gardens of Alcinous, the farm of Lorenzo has 
frequently been celebrated in the language of poetry. To 
his own poem, on the destruction of his labours by the vio¬ 
lence of the river, we have before adverted. Politiano thus 
concludes his Sylva, devoted to the praises of Homer, to 
which, on account of its having been written at this place, 
he has given the name of “ Ambra .” 23 

Macte opibus, macte ingenio, mea gloria Laurens, 

Gloria musarum Laurens ! montesque propinquos 
Perfodis, et longo suspensos excipis arcu, 

Praegelidas ducturus aquas, qua prata supinum 
Lata videt podium, riguis uberrima lymphis; 

Aggere tuta novo, piscosisque undique septa 
Limitibus, per quse multo servante molosso 
Plena Tarentinis succrescunt ubera vaccis; 

Atque aliud nigris missum (quis credat) ab Indis, 

Ruminat ignotas armentum discolor herbas. 

At vituli tepidis clausi foenilibus intus, 

Expectant tota sugendas nocte parentes. 

Interea magnis lac densum bullit ahenis, 

Brachiaque exertus senior, tunicataque pubes 
Comprimit, et longa siccandum ponit in umbra. 

Utque piae pascuntur oves, ita vastus obeso 
Corpore, sus calabar cavea stat clausus olenti, 

Atque aliam ex alia poscit grunnitibus escam. 

Celtiber ecce sibi latebrosa cuniculus antra 
Perforat; innumerus net serica vellera bombyx; 

At vaga floriferos errant dispersa per hortos, 

Multiforumque replent operosa examina suber; 

Et genus omne avium captivis instrepit alis. 

Dumque Antenorei volucris cristata Timavi 
Parturit, et custos capitoli gramina tondet, 

Multa lacu se mersat anas, subitaque volantes 
Nube diem fuscant Veneris tutela columbse. 


23 Politiano addressed this poem to Lorenzo Tornabuoni, the cousin of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, of whom a very favourable character may be found in the letters of Politiano. 
(Lib. xii. Ep. 6.) “ Debetur hsec silva tibi, vel argumento, vel titulo, nam et Homeri 

studiosus es; quasique noster consectaneus, et propinquus Laurenti Medicis, summi 
pnecellentisque viri, qui scilicet Ambram ipsam Cajanara, praedium (ut ita dixerim) 
omniferum, quasi pro laxamento sibi delegit civilium laborum. Tibi ergo poemation 
hoc qualecunque est, nuncupamus,” &c. Pridie nonas Nov. mcccclxxxv. 



292 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VIII 


Go on, Lorenzo, thou the muse’s pride, 

Pierce the hard rock and scoop the mountain’s side; 

The distant streams shall hear thy potent call, 

And the proud arch receive them as they fall. 

Thence o’er thy fields the genial waters lead, 

That with luxuriant verdure crown the mead. 

There rise thy mounds th’ opposing flood that ward, 

There thy domains thy faithful mastiffs guard: 

Tarentum there her horned cattle sends, 

Whose swelling teats the milky rill distends : 

There India’s breed of various colours range, 

Pleased with the novel scene and pastures strange, 

Whilst nightly closed within their shelter’d stall 
For the due treat their lowing offspring call. 

Meantime the milk in spacious coppers boils, 

With arms upstript the elder rustic toils, 

The young assist the curdled mass to squeeze, 

And place in cooling shades the recent cheese. 

Wide o’er thy downs extends thy fleecy charge: 

There the Calabrian hog, obese and large, 

Loud from his sty demands his constant food; 

And Spain supplies thee with thy rabbit-brood. 

Where mulberry groves their length of shadow spread, 

Secure the silk-worm spins his lustrous thread; 

And, cull’d from every flower the plunderer meets, 

The bee regales thee with her rifled sweets: 

There birds of various plume and various note 
Flutter their captive wings; with cackling throat 
The Paduan fowl betrays her future breed, 

And there the geese, once Rome’s preservers, feed, 

And ducks amusive sport amidst thy floods, 

And doves, the pride of Venus, throng thy woods. 

When Lorenzo was prevented by his numerous avocations 
from enjoying his retreat at Poggio-Cajano, his other 
villas in the vicinity of Florence afforded him an 
opportunity of devoting to his own use or the society of his 
friends those shorter intervals of time which he could with¬ 
draw from the service of the public. His residence at Ca- 
reggi was in every respect suitable to his rank. The house, 
which was erected by his grandfather and enlarged by his 
father, was sufficiently commodious. The adjacent grounds, 
which possessed every natural advantage that wood and 
water could afford, were improved and planted under his 
own directions, and his gardens were provided with every 
vegetable, either for ornament or use, which the most dili- 
Fiesoie research could supply . 24 But Piesole seems to 

have been the general resort of his literary friends, 

24 This was perhaps one of the earliest collections of plants in Europe which de¬ 
serves the name of a Botanical Garden; the authority of Sabbati, who dates the 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


293 


1490.] 

to many of whom he allotted habitations in the neighbour- p 
hood during the amenity of the summer months. Of these, 
Politiano and Pico were the most constant, and perhaps the 
most welcome guests. Landino, Scala, and Picino, were 
also frequent in their visits; and Crinitus, the pupil of Po¬ 
litiano, and Marullus, his rival in letters and in love, were 
occasionally admitted to this select society . 25 “ Superior 
perhaps,” says Voltaire, (substituting however Lascar and 
Chalcondyles for Scala and Crinitus), “ to that of the boasted 
sages of Greece.” Of the beauties of this place, and of the 
friendly intercourse that subsisted among these eminent 
men, Politiano, in a letter to Picino, gives us some idea . 26 
“ When you are incommoded,” says he, “ with the heat of 
the season in your retreat at Careggi, you will perhaps 
think the shelter of Piesole not undeserving your notice. 
Seated between the sloping sides of the mountain, we have 
here water in abundance; and being constantly refreshed 
with moderate winds, find little inconvenience from the 
glare of the sun. r .As you approach the house, it seems 
embosomed in the wood; but when you reach it, you find 
it commands a full prospect of the city. Populous as the 
vicinity is, yet I can here enjoy that solitude so gratifying 
to my disposition./ But I shall tempt you with other al¬ 
lurements. Wandering beyond the limits of his own planta¬ 
tion, Pico sometimes steals unexpectedly on my retirement, 
and draws me from my shades to partake of his supper. 
What kind of supper that is, you well know; sparing in¬ 
deed, but neat, and rendered grateful by the charms of his 
conversation. Be you, however, my guest. Your supper 
here shall be as good, and your wine perhaps better; for in 
the quality of my wine I shall contend for superiority even 
with Pico himself.” 


commencement of that at Rome in the pontificate of Nicholas V. about the year 
1450, being rejected by our eminent botanist Dr. Smith, who gives the priority to 
that of Padua in 1533. (Vide Sabb. Hort. Rom. vol. i. p. 1. Dr. Smith’s Introduct. 
Discourse to the Transactions of the Linn. Soc. p. 8.) Of the garden of Lorenzo 
a very particular account is given by Alessandro Braccio, in a Latin poem addressed 
to Bernardo Bembo, and preserved in the Laurentian Library, (Plut. lxxxxi. sup. 
cod. 41. Band. Cat. vol. iii. p. 787;) from which catalogue I shall insert it in the 
Appendix, No. XXXV. 

25 Crin. op. Lugd. 1554. p. 553. 


26 Pol. Ep. lib. x. ep. 14. 


294 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VIII. 

Besides his places of residence before noticed, Lorenzo 
other do- had large possessions in different parts of Tuscany, 
mains. house at Caffagiolo, near the village of that 

name among the romantic scenes of the Apennines, had 
been the favourite residence of his grandfather Cosmo; 
who, on being asked why he preferred this place to his 
more convenient habitation at Fiesole, is said to have as- 
~ signed as a reason, that Caffagiolo seemed pleasanter, be- 

* cause all the country he could see from his windows was 

his own. At Agnana, in the territory of Pisa, Lorenzo had 
a fertile domain, which he improved by draining, and 
bringing into cultivation the extensive marshes that lay in 
its neighbourhood, the completion of which was only pre¬ 
vented by his death. 27 Another estate, in the district of 
Yolterra, was rendered extremely fruitful by his labours, 
and yielded him an ample revenue. Yalori relates that 
Lorenzo was highly gratified with the amusement of horse¬ 
racing, and that he kept many horses for this purpose, 
amongst which was a roan, that on every occasion bore 
away the prize. The same author professes to have heard 
from Politiano, that as often as this horse happened to be 
sick, or was wearied with the course, he refused any nou¬ 
rishment except from the hands of Lorenzo, at whose ap¬ 
proach he testified his pleasure by neighing and by motions 
of his body, even whilst lying on the ground; so that it is 
not to be wondered at, says this author, by a kind of com¬ 
mendation rather more striking than just, that Lorenzo 
should be the delight of mankind, when even the brute 
creation expressed an affection for him. 

In the year 1484, at which time Piero de’ Medici, the 
Piero de’ eldest son of Lorenzo, was about fourteen years of 
the di o visits a S e > hi s father judged it expedient to send him to 
Rome on a visit to the pope, and appointed Scala 
and Politiano as his companions. He did not however 
implicitly confide in their discretion, but drew up himself 
very full and explicit directions for the conduct of his son 
during his absence. These instructions yet remain, and 
may serve, as much as any circumstance whatever, to give 

87 Valor, in Vita Laur. p. 39. 


1490.J LORENZO de’ MEDICI. 295 

us an idea of the sagacity and penetration of Lorenzo, and 
of his attention, not only to the regulation of the manners 
of his son, but to the promotion of his own views. 28 He 
advises him to speak naturally, without affectation, not to 
be anxious to display his learning, to use expressions of 
civility, and to address himself with seriousness and yet 
with ease to all. On his arrival at Rome he cautions him 
not to take precedence of his countrymen who are his supe¬ 
riors in age; “ for though you are my son/ 5 says he, “ you 
will remember that you are only a citizen of Florence like 
themselves. 55 He suggests to him what topics it will be 
proper for him to dwell upon in his interview with the 
pope; and directs him to express, in the most explicit man¬ 
ner, the devotion of his father to the holy see. He then 
proceeds to the essential object of his mission. “After 
having thus recommended me to his holiness, you will 
inform him that your affection for your brother induces you 
to speak a word in his favour. You can here mention that 
I have educated him for the priesthood, and shall closely 
attend to his learning and his manners, so that he may not 
disgrace his profession; that in this respect I repose all my 
hopes on his holiness; who, having already given us proofs 
of his kindness and affection, will add to our obligations 
by any promotion which he may think proper to bestow 
upon him; endeavouring by these and similar expressions to 
recommend your brother to his favour as much as lies in 
your power. 55 

In whatever manner Piero acquitted himself on his youth¬ 
ful embassy, it is probable that this interview ac- Giovanni de . 
complished the object on which the future fortunes 
of his house were so materially to depend; and ty of a car- 
Giovanni de 5 Medici, when only thirteen years of dinaL 
age, ranked with the prime supporters of the Roman church. 
It seems, however, that although the pope had complied 
with the pressing instances of Lorenzo, in bestowing on his 
son the dignity of a cardinal, he was not insensible of the 
indecorum of such a measure, for he expressly prohibited 

28 This curious paper of private instructions from Lorenzo to his son, is given in 
the Appendix, from the collection of Fabroni, No. XXXVI. 


296 THE LIFE OF [CH. VIII. 

him from assuming the insignia of his rank for three years, 
requesting that he would apply that interval to the diligent 
prosecution of his studies. He accordingly went to Pisa, 
where the regularity of his conduct and his attention to his 
improvement, justified in some degree the extraordinary 
indulgence which he had experienced, in consequence of 
which, his father made the most pressing instances to the 
pope to shorten the time of his probation. “ Trust the 
management of this business to me,” said Innocent; “I 
have heard of his good conduct, and of the honours which 
he has obtained in his college disputes. I consider him as 
my own son, and shall, when it is least expected, order his 
promotion to be made public; besides which, it is my inten¬ 
tion to do much more for his advancement than is at pre¬ 
sent supposed.” The three years were, however, suffered to 
elapse, and the young cardinal was then admitted to all the 
honours of his rank, the investiture having been performed 
by Matteo Bosso, prior of the monastery at Fiesole, who has 
left in one of his letters a particular narrative of the cere¬ 
mony. 29 After passing a few days with his father at Flo¬ 
rence, Giovanni hastened to Rome to pay his respects to 
the pope. On his approach to that city he was met and 
congratulated by several other cardinals, who made no 
hesitation in receiving into their number so young an asso¬ 
ciate. By the seriousness and propriety of his demeanour, 
he obviated as much as possible the unfavourable impression 
which a promotion so unprecedented had made on the public 
mind. Soon after his arrival at Rome, his father addressed 
to him an admonitory letter, as conspicuous for sound sense 
as for paternal affection, but which discovers the deep policy 
of Lorenzo and the great extent of his views. This letter 
may, without any unreasonable assumption, be considered 
as the guide of the future life and fortunes of a son, who 
afterwards attained the highest rank in Christendom, and 
(Q supported it with a dignity which gave it new lustre. 30 

29 Recuperationes Fesulanse, Ep. cx. As the work does not frequently occur, I 
shall give this letter in the Appendix, No. XXXVII. 

30 The original will be found in the Appendix, No. XXXVIII. “ Hsec epistola,” 
says Fabroni, “ tanquam Cycnea fuit prudentissimi hominis vox et oratio; paulo enim 
post ille mortem obivit.” (Fabr. in Vita, vol. ii. p. 313.) 


1490.] 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


297 


Lorenzo de Medici to Giovanni de Medici , Cardinal. 

“ You, and all of us who are interested in your welfare, 
ought to esteem ourselves highly favoured by Pro- Admonitory 
vidence, not only for the many honours and benefits le “er of lo- 
bestowed on our house, but more particularly for 
having conferred upon us, in your person, the greatest dignity 
we have ever enjoyed. This favour, in itself so important, is 
rendered still more so by the circumstances with which it 
is accompanied, and especially by the consideration of your 
youth and of our situation in the world. The first thing 
that I would therefore suggest to you is, that you ought to 
be grateful to God, and continually to recollect that it is not 
through your merits, your prudence, or your solicitude, that 
this event has taken place, but through his favour, which 
you can only repay by a pious, chaste, and exemplary life; 
and that your obligations to the performance of these duties 
are so much the greater, as in your early years you have given 
some reasonable expectation that your riper age may pro¬ 
duce such fruits. It would indeed be highly disgraceful, 
and as contrary to your duty as to my hopes, if, at a time 
when others display a greater share of reason and adopt a 
better mode of life, you should forget the precepts of your 
youth, and forsake the path in which you have hitherto 
trodden. Endeavour therefore to alleviate the burthen of 
your early dignity by the regularity of your life and by your 
perseverance in those studies which are suitable to your 
profession. It gave me great satisfaction to learn, that, 
in the course of the past year, you had frequently, of your 
own accord, gone to communion and confession; nor do I 
conceive that there is any better way of obtaining the favour 
of heaven than by habituating yourself to a performance of 
these and similar duties. This appears to me to be the 
most suitable and useful advice which, in the first instance, 
I can possibly give you. 

“ I well know, that as you are now to reside at Rome, 
that sink of all iniquity, the difficulty of conducting yourself 
by these admonitions will be increased. The influence of 


298 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VIII. 

example is itself prevalent; but you will probably meet with 
those who will particularly endeavour to corrupt and incite 
you to vice; because, as you may yourself perceive, your 
early attainment to so great a dignity is not observed 
without envy, and those who could not prevent your re¬ 
ceiving that honour will secretly endeavour to diminish 
it, by inducing you to forfeit the good estimation of the 
public; thereby precipitating you into that gulf into which 
they had themselves fallen; in which attempt, the considera¬ 
tion of your youth will give them a confidence of success. 
To these difficulties you ought to oppose yourself with the 
greater firmness, as there is at present less virtue amongst 
your brethren of the college, I acknowledge indeed that 
several of them are good and learned men, whose lives are 
exemplary, and whom I would recommend to you as pat¬ 
terns of your conduct. By emulating them you will be 
so much the more known and esteemed, in proportion as 
your age and the peculiarity of your situation will distin¬ 
guish you from your colleagues. Avoid, however, as you 
would Scylla or Charybdis, the imputation of hypocrisy; 
guard against all ostentation, either in your conduct or your 
discourse; affect not austerity, nor even appear too serious. 
This advice you will, I hope, in time understand and prac¬ 
tise better than I can express it. 

“ Yet you are not unacquainted with the great importance 
of the character which you have to sustain, for you well 
know that all the Christian world would prosper if the car¬ 
dinals were what they ought to be; because in such a case 
there would always be a good pope, upon which the tran¬ 
quillity of Christendom so materially depends. Endeavour 
then to render yourself such, that if all the rest resembled 
you, we might expect this universal blessing. To give you 
particular directions as to your behaviour and conversation 
would be a matter of no small difficulty. I shall therefore 
only recommend, that in your intercourse with the cardinals 
and other men of rank, your language be unassuming and 
respectful, guiding yourself, however, by your own reason, 
and not submitting to be impelled by the passions of others, 
who, actuated by improper motives, may pervert the use of 


1490.] LORENZO de’ MEDICI. 299 

their reason. Let it satisfy your conscience that your con¬ 
versation is without intentional offence; and if, through 
impetuosity of temper, any one should be offended, as his 
enmity is without just cause, so it will not be very lasting. 
On this your first visit to Rome, it will however be more 
advisable for you to listen to others than to speak much 
yourself. 

“You are now devoted to God and the church ; on which 
account you ought to aim at being a good ecclesiastic, and 
to shew that you prefer the honour and state of the church 
and of the apostolic see to every other consideration. Nor, 
while you keep this in view, will it be difficult for you to 
favour your family and your native place. On the con¬ 
trary, you should be the link to bind this city^closer to the 
church, and our family with the city; and although it be 
impossible to foresee what accidents may happen, yet I 
doubt not but this may be done with equal advantage to 
all; observing, however, that you are always to prefer the 
interests of the church. 

“You are not only the youngest cardinal in the college, 
but the youngest person that ever was raised to that rank; 
and you ought therefore to be the most vigilant and unas¬ 
suming, not giving others occasion to wait for you, either 
in the chapel, the consistory, or upon deputations. You 
will soon get a sufficient insight into the manners of your 
brethren. With those of less respectable character con¬ 
verse not with too much intimacy; not merely on account 
of the circumstance in itself, but for the sake of public 
opinion. Converse on general topics with all. On public 
occasions let your equipage and dress be rather below than 
above mediocrity. A handsome house and a well-ordered 
family will be preferable to a great retinue and a splendid 
residence. Endeavour to live with regularity, and gradu¬ 
ally to bring your expenses within those bounds which in a 
new establishment cannot perhaps be expected. Silk and 
jewels are not suitable for persons in your station. Your 
taste will be better shewn in the acquisition of a few elegant 
remains of antiquity, or in the collecting of handsome books, 
and by your attendants being learned and well-bred rather 


300 THE LIFE OF • [CH. VIII. 

than numerous. Invite others to your house oftener than 
you receive invitations. Practise neither too frequently. 
Let your own food be plain, and take sufficient exercise, for 
those who wear your habit are soon liable, without great 
caution, to contract infirmities. The station of a cardinal 
is not less secure than elevated; on which account those 
who arrive at it too frequently become negligent, conceiving 
that their object is attained, and that they can preserve it 
with little trouble. This idea is often injurious to the life 
and character of those who entertain it. Be attentive 
therefore to your conduct, and confide in others too little 
rather than too much. There is one rule which I would 
recommend to your attention in preference to all others: 
Rise early in the morning. This will not only contribute 
to your health, but will enable you to arrange and expedite 
the business of the day; and as there are various duties in¬ 
cident to your station, such as the performance of divine 
service, studying, giving audience, &c. you will find the ob¬ 
servance of this admonition productive of the greatest 
utility. Another very necessary precaution, particularly on 
your entrance into public life, is to deliberate every evening 
on what you may have to perform the following day, that 
you may not be unprepared for whatever may happen. With 
respect to your speaking in the consistory, it will be most 
becoming for you at present to refer the matters in debate 
to the judgment of his holiness, alleging as a reason your 
own youth and inexperience. You will probably be desired, 
to intercede for the favours of the pope on particular occa¬ 
sions. Be cautious however that you trouble him not too 
often; for his temper leads him to be most liberal to those 
who weary him least with their solicitations. This you 
must observe, lest you should give him offence, remember¬ 
ing also at times to converse with him on more agreeable 
topics; and if you should be obliged to request some kind¬ 
ness from him, let it be done with that modesty and humi¬ 
lity which are so pleasing to his disposition, farewell.” 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


301 


1490 .] 

As the policy of Lorenzo led him to support a powerful 
influence at Rome, and as he had frequently ex- Piero de’ 
perienced the good effects of the connexion which ^Sfonsi- 
subsisted between him and the family of the Orsini, na ° rsini - 
he thought it advisable to strengthen it; and accordingly 
proposed a marriage between his son Piero and Alfonsina, the 
daughter of Roberto Orsini, count of Tagliacozzo and Albi. 

This proposal was eagerly listened to by Yirginio Orsini, 
who was then considered as the head of that powerful 
family, the chiefs of which, though subordinate to the pope, 
scarcely considered themselves as subjects, and frequently 
acted with the independence of sovereign princes. In the 
month of March, 1487, these nuptials were celebrated at 
Naples, in the presence of the king and his court, with ex¬ 
traordinary pomp. Lorenzo on his marriage with Clarice 
Orsini had received no portion; but the reputation which 
he had now acquired was more than equivalent for the pride 
of ancestry, and Yirginio agreed to pay 12,000 Neapolitan 
ducats as a portion with his niece. On this occasion Piero 
w r as accompanied by Bernardo Rucellai, who had married 
Nannina, one of the sisters of Lorenzo, and who has not 
only signalized himself as a protector of learned men, but 
was himself one of the most accomplished scholars of his 
time. 31 

31 The talents and acquirements of Rucellai justly entitled him to the honour of 
so near an alliance with the family of the Medici. His public life has indeed in¬ 
curred the censure of the Florentine historians of the succeeding century, who 
wrote under the pressure of a despotic government; but it is not difficult to perceive 
that his crime was an ardent love of liberty, which he preferred to the claims of 
kindred and the expectations of personal aggrandizement. (Ammir. Opusc. vol. ii. 
Elog. vol. ii. p. 161. Comment, di Nerli, p. 64.) His Latin historical works, “De 
Bello Italico” and “ De Bello Pisano,” have merited the approbation of the discri¬ 
minating Erasmus. “ Novi Venetiae,” says he, “ Bernardum Ocricularium (Oricel- 
larium) cujus Historias si legisses, dixisses alterum Sallustium, aut certe Sallustii 
temporibus scriptas.” (Apotbeg. lib. viii.) The former of these works was first 
published at London, by Brindley, in 1724, and again, by William Bowyer, with the 
treatise “ De Bello Pisano,” in 1733. Bernardo was also a poet, and appears in the 
« Canti Carnascialeschi” as the author of the “ Trionfo della Calunnia.” (Cant. 
Carnas. p. 125.) But the poetical reputation of Bernardo is eclipsed by that of his 
son Giovanni Rucellai, author of the tragedy of “ Rosmunda,” and of that beauti¬ 
ful didactic poem “ Le Api,” which will remain a lasting monument that the Italian 
language requires not the shackles of rhyme to render it harmonious. “ Homme de 
Gout (says Tenhove), dans vos promenades solitaires prenez quelquefois son poeme.” 

“Ed odi quel che sopra un verde prato, 

Cinto d’ abeti e d’ onorati allori, 

Che bagna or un muscoso e chiaro fonte, 

Canta de F api del suo florid’ orto.” 


302 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VIII. 

The marriage of Piero cle’ Medici was soon afterwards 
followed by that of his sister Maddalena with Francesco 
Cibo, the son of the pope, and who then bore the title of 
count of Anguillara. 32 Of the three daughters of Lorenzo, 
Lucretia intermarried with Giacopo Salviati, Contessina with 
Piero Ridolfi, and Louisa, his youngest, after having been 
betrothed to Giovanni de’ Medici, of a collateral branch of 
the same family, died before the time appointed for the 
nuptials. 33 

In the year 1488, Piero de’ Medici took a journey to 
Piero de- Milan, to be present at the celebration of the nup- 
Mifan! visits ti a l s of the young duke Galeazzo Sforza, with 
Isabella, grand-daughter of Ferdinand king of 
Naples. The whole expense of this journey was defrayed 
by Lodovico Sforza, who paid a marked respect to Piero, 
and directed that he should always appear in public at the 
side of the duke. By a letter yet existing, from the Flo¬ 
rentine legate to Lorenzo de’ Medici, it appears that these 
nuptials were celebrated with great magnificence ; 34 but 
amidst the splendour of diamonds and the glitter of brocade, 
were entwined the serpents of treachery and guilt. Even 
in giving the hand of Isabella to a nephew, whom he re¬ 
garded rather as an implement of his ambition than as his law¬ 
ful sovereign, Lodovico himself burnt with a criminal passion 


32 These nuptials were celebrated at Rome in the year 1488. Maddalena, who 
was very young, was accompanied by Matteo Franco, the facetious correspondent of 
Pulci, (see p. 161) the vivacity of whose character did not prevent Lorenzo from 
selecting him for this important trust, in the execution of which he conciliated in a 
high degree the favour of the pope and his courtiers. Pol. Ep. lib. x. ep. 12. 

33 Besides his three sons and four daughters before enumerated, Lorenzo had 
other children, all of whom died in their infancy, as appears by a letter from him to 
Politiano; who having occasion to acquaint him with the indisposition of some part 
of his family, and being fearful of alarming him, addressed his letter to Michellozzi, 
the secretary of Lorenzo. In his answer, Lorenzo reproves, with some degree of 
seriousness, the ill-timed distrust of Politiano, and with true stoical dignity de¬ 
clares that it gave him more uneasiness than the intelligence that accompanied it. 
“ Can you then conceive,” says he, “ that my temper is so infirm, as to be disturbed 
by such an event ? If my disposition had been by nature weak and liable to be 
impelled by every gust, yet experience has taught me how to brave the storm. I 
have not only known what it is to bear the sickness, but even the death, of some of 
my children. The untimely loss of my father, when I was in my twenty-first year, 
left me so much exposed to the attacks of fortune, that life became a burthen to me. 
You ought therefore to have known that if nature had denied me firmness, experience 
has supplied the defect.” Laur. Ep. in Ep. Pol. lib. x. ep. 5. 

34 Fabroni, vol. ii. p. 296. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


303 


1490.J 

for her; and the gravest of the Italian historians assures us, 
that it was the public opinion that he had, by means of 
magic and incantations, prevented the consummation of a 
marriage, which, while it promoted his political views, de¬ 
prived him of the object of his love. 35 The prejudices of 
the age and the wickedness of Lodovico sufficiently coun¬ 
tenance the probability of such an attempt; but that the 
means employed were so far successful as to prevent that 
circumstance taking place for several months, is an asser¬ 
tion, of the veracity of which posterity may be allowed to 
doubt. 

Of this princess an incident is recorded, which does equal 
honour to her conjugal affection and her filial piety. When 
Charles VIII. of France, at the instigation of Lodovico 
Sforza, entered Italy, a few years after her marriage, for 
the avowed purpose of depriving her father of the throne of 
Naples, he passed through Pavia, where the young duke then 
lay on his death-bed, not without giving rise to suspicions 
that he had been poisoned. Touched with his misfortunes, 
and mindful of the relationship between Galeazzo and him¬ 
self, who were sisters’ children, Charles resolved to see him. 
The presence of Lodovico, who did not choose to risk the 
consequences of a private and confidential interview, whilst 
it restricted the conversation of the king to formal inquiries 
about the health of the duke, and wishes for his recovery, 
excited both in him and in all present a deeper compassion 
for the unhappy prince. Isabella perceived the general 
sympathy; and throwing herself at the feet of the monarch, 
recommended to his protection her unfortunate husband 
and her infant son; at the same time, by tears and en¬ 
treaties, earnestly endeavouring to turn his resentment from 
her father and the house of Aragon. Attracted by her 
beauty, and moved by her solicitations, Charles appeared 
for a moment to relent, and the fate of Italy was suspended 
in the balance; but the king, recollecting the importance 
of his preparations, and the expectations which his enter¬ 
prise had excited, soon steeled his feehngs against this 
feminine attack, and resolved, in spite of the suggestions 

35 Guicciardini, lib. i. 


THE LIFE OF 


304 


[CH. VIII. 


of pity and the claims of humanity, to persevere in his 
design. 

Having now secured the tranquillity of Italy, and the 
prosperity of his family by every means that prudence could 
dictate, Lorenzo began to enjoy the fruits of his labours. 
These he found in the affection and good-will of his fellow - 
citizens; in observing the rapid progress of the fine arts, 
towards the promotion of which he had so amply contri¬ 
buted ; in the society and conversation of men of genius 
/ and learning; and in the inexhaustible stores of knowledge 
with which he had enriched his own discriminating and 
comprehensive mind. 

As his natural disposition, or the effects of his education, 

Learned frequently led him to meditate with great serious- 
favouredby ness on moral and religious subjects, so there were 
Lorenzo. no persons for whom he entertained a greater 
esteem than those who adorned their character as teachers 
of religion by a corresponding rectitude of life and propriety 
of manners. Amongst these he particularly distinguished 
Mariano Mariano Genazano, an Augustine monk and supe- 
Genazano. r j or 0 f ^ig order, for whose use, and that of his 
associates, he erected in the suburbs of Florence an exten¬ 
sive building which he endowed as a monastery, and to 
which he was himself accustomed occasionally to retire, with 
a few select friends, to enjoy the conversation of this learned 
ecclesiastic. Politiano, in the preface to his “ Miscellanea,” 
inveighing against those who affected to consider the study 
of polite letters as inconsistent with the performance of 
sacred functions, adduces Mariano as an illustrious instance 
of their union. “ On this account,” says he to Lorenzo, 
“ I cannot sufficiently admire your highly-esteemed friend 
Mariano, whose proficiency in theological studies, and whose 
eloquence and address in his public discourses, leave him 
without a rival. The lessons which he inculcates derive 
additional authority from his acknowledged disinterested¬ 
ness, and from the severity of his private life; yet there is 
nothing morose in his temper, nothing unpleasingly austere; 
nor does he think the charms of poetry, or the amusements 
and pursuits of elegant literature, below his attention.” In 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


305 


1490.] 

one of his letters, the same author has left a very explicit 
account of the talents of Mariano as a preacher. 36 “ I was 
lately induced,” says he, “ to attend one of his lectures, 
rather, to say the truth, through curiosity, than with the 
hope of being entertained. His appearance, however, inte¬ 
rested me in his favour. His address was striking and his 
eye marked intelligence. My expectations were raised. 
He began—I was attentive, a clear voice—select expression 
—elevated sentiment. He divides his subject—I perceive 
his distinctions. Nothing perplexed; nothing insipid; 
nothing languid. He unfolds the web of his argument—I 
am enthralled. He refutes the sophism—I am freed. He 
introduces a pertinent narrative—I am interested. He 
modulates his voice—I am charmed. He is jocular—I 
smile. He presses me with serious truths—I yield to their 
force. He addresses the passions—the tears glide down 
my cheeks. He raises his voice in anger—I tremble and 
wish myself away:” 

Of the particular subjects of discussion which engaged 
the attention of Lorenzo and his associates in their inter¬ 
view at the convent of San Gallo, Valori has left some 
account which he derived from the information of Mariano 
himself. The existence and attributes of the Deity, the 
insufficiency of temporal enjoyments to fill the mind, and 
the probability and moral necessity of a future state, were 
to Lorenzo the favourite objects of his discourse. His own 
opinion was pointedly expressed. ^He is dead even to 
this life,” said Lorenzo, “who has no hopes of another.” 37 ^ 

Although the citizens of Florence admired the talents and 
respected the virtues of Mariano, their attention Girolamo 
was much more forcibly excited by a preacher of 8avonaro,a * 
a very different character, who possessed himself of their 
confidence, and entitled himself to their homage, by fore¬ 
telling their destruction. This was the famous Girolamo 
Savonarola, who afterwards acted so conspicuous a part in 
the popular commotions at Florence, and contributed so 
essentially to the accomplishment of his own predictions. 


36 Pol. Ep. lib. iv. ep. 6. 


37 Valor, in Vita, p. 48. 

20 


306 THE LIFE OF [CH. VIII. 

Savonarola was a native of Ferrara; but the reputation 
which he had acquired as a preacher induced Lorenzo de’ 
Medici to invite him to Florence, where he took up his 
residence in the year 1488, 38 and was appointed prior of the 
monastery of S. Marco. By pretensions to superior sanctity, 
and by a fervid and overpowering elocution, he soon acquired 
an astonishing ascendency over the minds of the people; 
and in proportion as his popularity increased, his disregard 
of his patron became more apparent, and was soon con¬ 
verted into the most vindictive animosity. It had been the 
custom of those who had preceded Savonarola in this office, 
to pay particular respect to Lorenzo de’ Medici, as the sup¬ 
porter of the institution. Savonarola, however, not only 
rejected this ceremony, as founded in adulation, but as 
often as Lorenzo frequented the gardens of the monastery, 
retired from his presence, pretending that his intercourse 
was with God and not with man. At the same time, in 
his public discourses, he omitted no opportunity of attack¬ 
ing the reputation and diminishing the credit of Lorenzo, 
by prognosticating the speedy termination of his authority, 
and his banishment from his native place. The divine 
word from the lips of Savonarola, descended not amongst 
his audience like the dews of heaven; it was the piercing 
hail, the sweeping whirlwind, the destroying sword. The 
friends of Lorenzo frequently remonstrated with him on his 
suffering the monk to proceed to such an extreme of arro¬ 
gance ; but Lorenzo had either more indulgence or more 
discretion than to adopt hostile measures against a man, 
whom, though morose and insolent, he probably considered 
as sincere. On the contrary, he displayed his usual prudence 
and moderation, by declaring that whilst the preacher ex¬ 
erted himself to reform the citizens of Florence, he should 
readily excuse his incivility to himself. This extraordinary 
degree of lenity, if it had no influence on the mind of the 
fanatic, prevented in a great degree the ill effects of his 

38 In 1489, according to Tiraboschi, “ Storia della Lett. Ital.” vol. vi. par. 2, p. 
377; but Savonarola himself, in his “ Trattato delle rivelatione della reformatione 
della Chiesa,” Ven. 1536, (if indeed the work be his) assigns an earlier period. In 
this work the fanatic assumes the credit of having foretold the death of Innocent VIII., 
of Lorenzo de’ Medici, the irruption of the French into Italy, &c. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


307 


1490.] 

harangues ; and it was not till after the death of Lorenzo, 
that Savonarola excited those disturbances in Florence, 
which led to his own destruction, and terminated in the 
ruin of the republic. 

Another ecclesiastic, whose worth and talents had conci¬ 
liated the favour of Lorenzo, was Matteo Bosso, superior of 
the convent of regular canons at Fiesole. Not less Ma tteo 
conversant with the writings of the ancient philo- Bosso - 
sophers than with the theological studies of his own times, 
Bosso was a profound scholar, a close reasoner, and a con¬ 
vincing orator; but to these he united much higher qualifi¬ 
cations—a candid mind, an inflexible integrity, and an 
interesting simplicity of life and manners. To his treatise 
“De veris animi gaudiis,” is prefixed a recommendatory 
epistle from Politiano to Lorenzo de 5 Medici, highly favour¬ 
able to the temper and character of the author . 39 On the 
publication of this piece, Bosso also transmitted a copy of it 
to Lorenzo, with a Latin letter, preserved in the “ Recupe- 
rationes Fesulanee,” another work of the same author, highly 
deserving the attention of the scholar . 40 In this letter 
Borso bears testimony to the virtues and to the piety of 
Lorenzo; but whether this testimony ought to be received 
with greater confidence because Bosso was the confessor of 
Lorenzo, the reader will decide for himself. 

Of these his graver associates, as well as of the com¬ 
panions of his lighter horns, Lorenzo was accustomed to 
stimulate the talents by every means in his power. His 
own intimate acquaintance with the tenets of the ancient 
philosophers, and his acute and versatile genius, enabled 
him to propose to their discussion subjects of the most inte¬ 
resting nature, and either to take a chief part in the con- 


39 This treatise was first published in octavo, at Florence, by Ser Francisco Bona- 
cursi. Anno Salutis mcccclxxxxi. Sexto Idus Februarii. 

40 This book is estimable not only for its contents, but as being one of the finest 
specimens of typography of the fifteenth century. Instead of a title, we read, “ Quae 
hoc volumine habentur varia diversaque et longa ex dispersione collecta quo brevi sub 
titulo subjiciantur ac nomine Recuperationes Fesulanas lector agnoscito.” And at the 
close, “ Recuperationes Fesulanas has elegantissimas, opus quidem aureum et penitus 
divinum quam castigatissime Impressit omni solertia Plato de Benedictis Bononiensis 
in alma civitate Bononiae. Anno Salutis mcccclxxxxiii. decimo tertio Kalendas 
Augustas.” Folio. 


308 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VIII. 

versation, or to avail himself of such observations as it 
might occasion. It appears also, that at some times he 
amused himself with offering to their consideration such 
topics as he well knew would elude their researches, although 
they might exercise their powers; as men try their strength 
by shooting arrows towards the sky. Of this we have an 
instance in the sonnet addressed by him to Salviati. 41 
“ When the mind,” says he, “ escapes from the storms of 
life, to the calm haven of reflection, doubts arise which 
require solution. If no one can effectually exert himself to 
obtain eternal happiness without the special favour of God, 
and if that favour be only granted to those who are well 
disposed towards this reception, I wish to know whether 
the grace of God or the good disposition first commences ?” 
The learned theologian to whom this captious question was 
addressed, took it into his serious consideration, and after 
dividing it into seven parts, attempted its solution in a 
Latin treatise of considerable extent, which is yet preserved 
in the Laurentian Library. 42 

Lorenzo was not however destined long to enjoy that 
Death of tranquillity which he had so assiduously laboured 
Madonna to secure. His life had scarcely reached its meri¬ 
dian, when the prospect was overhung with dark 
and lowering clouds. The death of his wife Clarice, which 
happened in the month of August, 1488, was a severe 
shock to his domestic happiness. He was then absent from 
(r Florence, and did not arrive in time to see her before she 

41 “ Lo spirito talora a se ridutto, 

E dal mar tempestoso e travagliato 
Fuggito in porto tranquillo e pacato, 

Pensando ha dubbio e vuolne trar costrutto. 

S’egli e ver, cbe da Dio proceda tutto, 

E senza lui nulla e, cioe il pecato; 

Per sua grazia se ci e concesso e dato 
Seminar qui per corre etemo frutto; 

Tal grazia in quel sol fa operazione 
Ch’ a riceverla e volto e ben disposto, 

Dunque che cosa e quella ne dispone ? 

Qual prima sia, vorrei mi fosse esposto, 

0 tal grazia, o la buona inclinazione: 

Rispondi or tu al dubbio ch’ e proposto.” 

42 Georgii Benigni Salviati, in Rhythmum acutissimum magni Laurentii Medicis 
Quaestiones 6eptem, &c. Plut. lxxxiii. cod. 18. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


309 


1490.] 

died, which it seems gave rise to insinuations that his con¬ 
jugal affection was not very ardent ; 43 but the infirm state 
of his own health at this time had rendered it necessary for 
him to visit the warm baths, where he received an account 
of her death before he was apprized of the danger of her 
situation. From his youth he had been afflicted with a 
disorder which occasioned extreme pain in his stomach and 
limbs. This complaint was probably of a gouty tendency; 
but the defective state of medicine at that time rendered it 
impossible for him to obtain any just information respecting 
it. The most eminent physicians in Italy were consulted, 
and numerous remedies were prescribed, without producing 
any beneficial effect. 44 By frequenting the tepid baths of 
Italy he obtained a temporary alleviation of his sufferings; 
but, notwithstanding all the assistance he could procure, his 
complaints rather increased than diminished, and for some 
time before his death he had reconciled his mind to an 
event which he knew could not be far distant. When his 
son Giovanni took his departure for Rome, to appear in the 
character of cardinal, Lorenzo with great affection recom¬ 
mended him to the care of Filippo Yalori and Andrea 
Cambino, who were appointed to accompany him on his 
journey; at the same time expressing his apprehensions, 
which the event but too well justified, that he should see 
them no more. 45 

In the year 1488, Girolamo Riario, whose machinations 
had deprived Lorenzo of a brother, and had nearly Assassina . 
involved Lorenzo himself in the same destruction, 
fell a victim to his accumulated crimes. By the as- 

43 Piero da Bibbiena, the secretary of Lorenzo, writes thus to the Florentine am¬ 
bassador at Rome; “ Prid. Kal. Sextil. 1488: A hore 14 mori la Clarice. Se voi 
sentisse che Lorenzo fosse biasimato di costa per non essersi trovato alia morte delle 
moglie, scusatelo. Parve al Leoni necessario, che andasse a prender l’acque della 
Villa, e poi non si credeva che morisse si presto.” Fabr. vol. ii. p. 384. 

44 Some of these remedies are of a singular nature. Pietro Bono Avogradi, in a 
letter dated the eleventh of February, 1488, advises Lorenzo, as a sure method of 
preventing a return of the dolore di zonture , or arthritic pains, with which he was 
afflicted to make use of a stone called an heliotrope, which being set in gold, and 
worn on the finger so as to touch the skin, would produce the desired effect. “ This,” 
says he, “ is a certain preservative against both gout and rheumatism; I have tried it 
myself, and found that its properties are divine and miraculous.” With the same 
letter he transmits to Lorenzo his prognostics for the year 1488. 

4 Valor, in Vita Laur. p. 65. 


310 THE LIFE OF [CH. VIII. 

sistance of Sixtus IV. he had possessed himself of a consi¬ 
derable territory in the vicinity of the papal state, and 
particularly of the cities of Imola and Forli, at the latter of 
which he had fixed his residence, and supported the rank 
of an independent prince. In order to strengthen his inte¬ 
rest in Italy he had connected himself with the powerful 
family of the Sforza, by a marriage with Caterina, sister of 
Galeazzo Sforza, duke of Milan, whose unhappy fate has 
already been related. 46 The general tenor of the life of 
Riario seems to have corresponded with the specimen before 
exhibited. By a long course of oppression he had drawn 
upon himself the hatred and resentment of his subjects, 
whom he had reduced to the utmost extreme of indigence 
and distress. Stimulated by repeated acts of barbarity, 
three of them resolved to assassinate him, and to trust for 
their safety, after the perpetration of the deed, to the opi¬ 
nion and support of their fellow-citizens. Although Riario 
was constantly attended by a band of soldiers, these men 
found means to enter his chamber in the palace at the hour 
when he had just concluded his supper. One of them 
having cut him across the face with a sabre, he took shelter 
under the table, whence he was dragged out by Lodovico 
Orso, another of the conspirators, who stabbed him through 
the body. Some of his attendants having by this time en¬ 
tered the room, Riario made an effort to escape at the door, 
but there received from the third conspirator a mortal 
wound. It is highly probable that he was betrayed by the 
guard, for these three men were even permitted to strip the 
dead body and throw it through the window, when the 
populace immediately rose and sacked the palace. The 
insurgents having secured the widow and children of Riario, 
were only opposed by the troops in the fortress of the town, 
who refused to surrender it either to their entreaties or their 
threats. Being required, under pain of death, to exert her 
influence in obtaining for the populace possession of the 
fortress, the princess requested that they would permit her 
to enter it; but no sooner was she secure within the walls 
than she exhorted the soldiers to its defence, and, raising 

< 6 Vide p. 112. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


311 


1490 .] 

the standard of the duke of Milan, threatened the town 
with destruction. The inhabitants attempted to intimidate 
her by preparing to execute her children in her sight, for 
which purpose they erected a scaffold before the walls of 
the fortress; but this unmanly proceeding, instead of awaken¬ 
ing her affections, only excited her contempt, which she is 
said to have expressed in a very emphatic and extraordinary 
manner. 47 By her courage the inhabitants were however 
resisted, until Giovanni Bentivoglio, with a body of two 
thousand foot and eight hundred cavalry from Bologna 
gave her effectual assistance, and being joined by a strong 
reinforcement from Milan, compelled the inhabitants to 
acknowledge as their sovereign Ottavio Riario, the eldest 
son of Girolamo. 48 

Lorenzo de 5 Medici has not escaped the imputation of 
having been privy to the assassination of his old and im¬ 
placable adversary; but neither the relations of contempo¬ 
rary historians, nor the general tenor of his life, afford a 
presumption on which to ground such an accusation; 49 
although it is certain, that some years previous to this 
event, he had been in treaty with the pope to deprive 
Riario of his usurpations, and to restore the territories occu¬ 
pied by him to the family of the Ordolaffi, their former 
lords, which treaty was frustrated by the pope having in- 

47 Murat. Ann. vol. ix. p. 5 5 6. 48 Chronica Bossiana. an. 1488. Ed. 1492. 

49 “ Indignum sane facinus fuit, quod in Hieronymum Riarium Comitem admissum 
est; cujus participem Laurentium fuisse multi contendunt, et ab eo ad ulciscendas prae- 
teritorum temporum injurias comparatum.” (Fabr. in Vita, vol. i. p. 175J There is, 
however, great reason to suspect that the modern biographer of Lorenzo has inad¬ 
vertently given weight and credit to an accusation, which, if established, would de¬ 
grade his character to that of a treacherous assassin. In vindication of him against 
this charge, I must therefore observe, that of the many accusers to whom Fabroni 
adverts, I have not met with one of the early historians who has even glanced at 
Lorenzo as having been associated with the conspirators, or a party in the perpetra¬ 
tion of the deed. Neither Machiavelli nor Ammirato, although they relate the parti¬ 
culars of the transaction, have implicated in it the name of Lorenzo. Muratori, whose 
annals are compiled from contemporary and authentic documents, and who may there¬ 
fore be considered as an original writer, is equally silent on this head. The ancient 
chronicle of Donato Bosso, printed only four years after the event, gives a yet more 
particular account, but alludes not to any interposition on the part of Lorenzo; and 
even Raffaello Maffei, his acknowledged adversary, though he adverts to the death of 
Riario, attributes it only to the interference of his own subjects. It is indeed a strong 
indication of the dignity of the character of Lorenzo, that a charge so natural, aud so 
consistent with the spirit of the times, should not have been alleged against him; and 
as he has been exculpated in the eyes of his contemporaries, it is surely not for pos¬ 
terity to criminate him. Vide Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 194. 


312 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VIII. 

sisted on annexing them to the states of the church . 50 The 
conspirators however soon after the death of Riario apprized 
Lorenzo of the event, and requested his assistance; in con¬ 
sequence of which he despatched one of his envoys to Forli, 
with a view of obtaining authentic information as to the 
disposition of the inhabitants and the views of the insur¬ 
gents ; 51 when finding that it was their intention to place 
themselves under the dominion of the pope, he declined 
any interference on their behalf, but availed himself of the 
opportunity of their dissensions, to restore to the Floren¬ 
tines the fortress of Piancaldoli, which had been wrested 
from them by Riario . 53 That the assassins of Riario, were 
suffered to escape with impunity, is perhaps the best justifi¬ 
cation of their conduct, as it affords a striking proof that he 
had deserved his fate. 

Another event soon afterwards took place at Faenza, 

Tragical which occasioned great anxiety to Lorenzo, and 
?r o °Man a : called for the exertion of all his conciliatory powers. 
fredL If the list of crimes and assassinations which we 
have before had occasion to notice, may be thought to have 
disgraced the age, that which we have now to relate exhibits 
an instance of female ferocity, which renewed in the fifteenth 

60 Fabron. Adnot. et Monum. vol. ii. p. 316. 

51 The letter from Lodovico and Cecco d’ Orsi, two of the conspirators, to Lorenzo 
de’ Medici, written only a few days after the event, is inserted in the Appendix, and 
indisputably shews, that although they supposed Lorenzo would be gratified by the 
death of his adversary, he had no previous knowledge of such an attempt. To this I 
shall also subjoin the letter to Lorenzo from his envoy, which gives a minute account 
of the whole transaction, and by which it appears, that although the pope had incited 
the conspirators to the enterprise, by expressing his abhorrence of the character of 
Riario, vet no other person was previously acquainted with their purpose. App. 
No. XXXIX. 

52 In the attack of this place the Florentines lost their eminent citizen Cecca their 
engineer, whose skill had facilitated the success of their enterprise. In the “ Exhor- 
tatio” of Philippus Reditus, addressed to Piero de’ Medici, ‘ in magnanimi sui parentis 
imitationem,’ the MS. of which is preserved in the Laurentian Library, this incident is 
particularly related; and as the passage has not hitherto been published, having been 
omitted, with many others, in the edition of Lami, ^Delic. Erudit. vol. xii.) which is 
printed from a copy in the Riccardi Library, I shall here insert it: “ Piancaldolii arx 
strenue nostris recuperatur. Ad iv. vero Kalendas Maias, nuntiata nece Hieronymi 
Riarii, Imolae Forliviique Tyranni, Piancaldolis oppidum nostrum, olim ab eo per 
summum nefas nobis ereptum, admirabili quadam nostrorum celeritate, tuo magnanimo 
Genitore procurante, strenue recuperatur. In cujus arcis obsidione, Franciscus, cog- 
nomine Ciccha, Fabrum magister, vir vel in expugnandis vel in defendendis urbibus 
tarn nostra, quam nostrorum patrum memoria perillustris, sagitta ictus capite, pro 
patria feliciter occubuit.” The death of Cecca is related with some variation by 
Vasari. Vita del Cecca. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


313 


1490.] 

century the examples of Gothic barbarity . 53 By the media¬ 
tion of Lorenzo, who was equally the friend of the Manfredi 
and the Bentivogli, a marriage had taken place between 
Galeotto Manfredi, prince of Faenza, and Francesca, daugh¬ 
ter of Giovanni Bentivoglio, which for some time seemed to 
be productive of that happiness to the parties, and those 
advantages to their respective families, which Lorenzo had 
in view. It was not long however before Francesca dis¬ 
covered, or suspected, that her husband was engaged in an 
illicit amour, the information of which she thought proper to 
communicate both to her father and to Lorenzo. Ever on 
the watch to obtain further proofs of his infidelity, she found 
an opportunity of listening to a private interview between 
Galeotto and some pretender to astrological knowledge, in 
whom it seems he was credulous enough to place his confi¬ 
dence. Instead however of gaining any intelligence as to 
the object of her curiosity, she heard predictions and de¬ 
nunciations, which, as she thought, affected the safety of 
her father, and being unable to conceal her indignation, she 
broke in upon their deliberations, and reproached her hus¬ 
band with his treachery. Irritated by the intrusion and 
the pertinacity of his wife, Galeotto retorted with great 
bitterness; but finding himself unequal to a contest of this 
nature, he had recourse to more violent methods, and by 
menaces and blows reduced her to obedience. Bentivoglio 
was no sooner apprized of the ignominious treatment which 
his daughter had received, and of the circumstances which 
had given rise to it, than he resolved to carry her off from 


53 There is a striking coincidence between this event and the narrative of Paullus 
Diaconus, upon which Giovanni Rucellai has founded his tragedy of “ Rosmunda.” 
Alboin, king of the Huns, having conquered and slain in battle Comundus, king of 
the Geppidi, compels his daughter Rosmunda to accept of him in marriage, with a 
view of uniting their dominions under his sole authority ; hut not satisfied with the 
accession of power, he gratifies a brutal spirit of revenge, by compelling her, at a 
public feast, to drink from the skull of her slaughtered father, which he had formed 
into a cup. This insult the princess avenges, by seducing to her purpose two of the 
king’s intimate friends, who, in order to entitle themselves to her favour, assassinate 
him in the hour of intoxication. Rucellai has, however, preserved his heroine from 
the crimes of prostitution and assassination, and has introduced a disinterested lover 
in the person of Almachilde, who executes vengeance on the king from generous and 
patriotic motives. In justice to the author it must also he observed, that the horrid 
incident upon which the tragedy is founded, is narrated only, and not represented 
before the audience. 


314 THE LIFE OF [cil. VIII. 

her husband by force. Taking with him a chosen body 
of soldiers, he approached Faenza by night, and seizing 
on Francesca and her infant son, brought them in safety 
to Bologna. This step he followed up by preparing for an 
attack on the dominions of his son-in-law; but Galeotto 
having resorted to Lorenzo for his mediation, a reconcilia¬ 
tion took place, and Francesca shortly afterwards returned 
to Faenza. Whether she still harboured in her bosom the 
lurking passions of jealousy and revenge, or whether some 
fresh insult on the part of her husband had roused her 
fury, is not known; but she formed and executed a delibe¬ 
rate plan for his assassination. To this end she feigned 
herself sick, and requested to see him in her chamber. 
Galeotto obeyed the summons, and, on entering his wife’s 
apartments, was instantly attacked by four hired assassins, 
three of whom she had concealed under her bed. Though 
totally unarmed, he defended himself courageously ; and as 
he had the advantages of great personal strength and ac¬ 
tivity, would probably have effected his escape; but when 
Francesca saw the contest doubtful, she sprung from the 
bed, and grasping a sword, plunged it into his body, and 
accomplished his destruction with her own hand. Con¬ 
scious of her guilt, she immediately took refuge with her 
children in the castle, until her father once more came to 
her relief. On his approach to Faenza, Bentivoglio was 
joined by the Milanese troops, who had been engaged in 
reinstating the family of Biario at Forli. The citizens of 
Faenza, conceiving that it was his intention to deprive them 
of Astorgio, the infant son of Galeotto, or rather perhaps 
under that pretext to possess himself of the city, refused to 
surrender to him his daughter and her family. He imme¬ 
diately attacked the place, which was not only successfully 
defended by the citizens, but in an engagement which took 
place under the walls, Borgomini the commander of the 
Milanese troops, lost his life, and Bentivoglio was made a 
prisoner. During this dispute Lorenzo de’ Medici had 
warmly espoused the cause of the citizens, and had en¬ 
couraged them with promises of support, in case they 
should find it necessary in preserving their independence. 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


315 


1490.] 

The success of their exertions, and the disaster of Bentivo- 
glio, changed the object of his solicitude; and no sooner 
did he receive intelligence of this event than he despatched 
a messenger to Faenza, to interfere on the behalf of 
Bentivoglio, and if possible to obtain his release. This was 
with some difficulty accomplished, and Bentivoglio imme¬ 
diately resorted to Florence to return his thanks to his 
benefactor. Some time afterwards Lorenzo, at the request 
of Bentivoglio, solicited the liberation of his daughter, 
which was also complied with ; and he was at length pre¬ 
vailed upon to intercede with the pope, to relieve her from 
the ecclesiastical censures which she had incurred by her 
crime. The reason given by Bentivoglio to Lorenzo for re¬ 
questing his assistance in this last respect will perhaps be 
thought extraordinary —He had an intention of providing 
her with another husband! 



The lable of Anibra. 










Mivticlaguolo. 

CHAPTER IX. 


Progress of the arts—State of them in the middle ages—Revival in Italy—Guido da 
Sienna — Cimabue — Giotto—Character of his works—The Medici encourage the 
arts — Masaccio—Paolo Uccello—Fra Filippo—Antonio Pollajuolo — Baldovinetti — 
Andrea da Castagna—Filippo Lippi—Luca Signorelli—Progress of Sculpture — 
Niccolo and Andrea Pisani — Ghiberti — Donatello—Imperfect state of the arts — 
Causes of their improvement—Numerous works of Sculpture collected by the 
ancient Romans—Researches after the remains of antiquity — Petrarca—Lorenzo 
de’ Medici brother of Cosmo—Niccolo Niccoli—Poggio Bracciolini—Collection of 
antiques formed by Cosmo—Assiduity of Lorenzo in augmenting it—Lorenzo es¬ 
tablishes a school for the study of the antique—Michelagnolo Buonarroti—Resides 
with Lorenzo—Forms an intimacy with Politiano—Advantages over his prede¬ 
cessors—His sculptures—Rapid improvement of taste—Raffaelle d’ Urbino — 
Michelagnolo unjustly censured—Other artists favoured by Lorenzo — Gian-Fran- 
cesco Rustici—Francesco Granacci—Andrea Contuhci—Lorenzo encourages the 
study of Architecture—Giuliano da San Gallo—Attempts to renew the practice of 
Mosaic—Invention of engraving on copper—Revival of engraving on gems and 
stones. 

Those periods of time which have been most favourable to 
progress of the progress of letters and science have generally 
the arts. been distinguished by an equal proficiency in the 
arts. The productions of Roman sculpture in its best ages 
bear nearly the same proportion to those of the Greeks, as 
the imitative labours of the Roman authors bear to the 
original works of their great prototypes. During the long 
ages of ignorance that succeeded the fall of the Western 
empire, letters and the fine arts underwent an equal degra¬ 
dation ; and it would be as difficult to point out a literary 





LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


317 


1490 .] 

work of those times which is entitled to approbation, as it 
would be to produce a statue or a picture. When these 
studies began to revive, a Guido da Sienna, a Cimabue, 
rivalled a Guittone d’ Arezzo, or a Piero delle Yigne. The 
crude buds that had escaped the severity of so long a winter 
soon began to swell, and Giotto, Buffalmacco, and Gaddi, 
were the contemporaries of Dante, of Boccaccio, and of 
Petrarca. 1 

It is not however to be presumed, that even in the 
darkest intervals of the middle ages these arts were state of the 
entirely extinguished. Some traces of them are ™ ts in the 
found in the rudest state of society; and the efforts mi eages * 
of the Europeans, the South Americans, and the Chinese, 
without rivalship, and without participation, are nearly on 
an equality with each other. Among the manuscripts of 
the Laurentian Library are preserved some specimens of 
miniature paintings which are unquestionably to be referred 
to the tenth century, but they bear decisive evidence of the 
barbarism of the times; and although they certainly aim 
at picturesque representation, yet they may with justice be 
considered rather as perverse distortions of nature, than as 
the commencement of an elegant art. 2 

Antecedent however to Cimabue, to whom Vasari attri¬ 
butes the honour of having been the restorer of Re vivai in 
painting, Guido da Sienna had demonstrated to his Italy - 
countrymen the possibility of improvement. His picture 
of the virgin, which yet remains tolerably entire in Gu ido da 
the church of S. Domenico, in his native place, Sienna - 
and which bears the date of 1221, is presumed, with rea¬ 
son, to be the earliest work now extant of any Italian 

1 “ Videmus picturas ducentorum annorum nulla prorsus arte politas; scripta 
illius setatis rudia sunt, inepta, incompta ; post Petrarcham emerserunt literae ; post 
Joctum surrexere pictorum manus; utraque ad summam jam videmus artem perve- 
nisse.” iEn. Silvii (Pii ii.) Epist. 119. ap. Baldinuc. Notiz. Dec. 1. Such was the 
opinion of this pontiff, who had great learning and some taste. He was only mis¬ 
taken in supposing that he had seen the perfection of the art. 

2 These pieces have lately been engraved and published in the “ Etruria Pittrice,” 
a work which appears periodically at Florence, and contains specimens of the man¬ 
ner of the Tuscan artists from the earliest times, executed so as to give some idea of 
the original pictures. To tjiis work, which would have been much more valuable if 
greater attention had been paid to the engravings, I shall, in sketching the progress 
of the art, have frequent occasion to refer. 


318 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. VIII. 

painter . 3 The Florentine made a bolder effort, and at¬ 
tracted more general admiration. Every new production of 
his pencil was regarded as a prodigy, and riches 
and honours were liberally bestowed on the fortu¬ 
nate artist. His picture of the Madonna, after having 
excited the wonder of a monarch, and given the name of 
Borgo Allegro to that district of the city, whither his coun¬ 
trymen resorted to gratify themselves with a sight of it, was 
removed to its destined situation in the church of S. Maria 
Novella , to the sound of music, in a solemn procession of 
the citizens . 4 The modern artist who observes this picture 
may find it difficult to account for such a degree of enthu¬ 
siasm ; 5 but excellence is merely relative, and it is a suffi¬ 
cient cause of approbation if the merit of the performance 
exceed the standard of the age. Those productions which, 
compared with the works of a Raffaello or a Titian may be 
of little esteem, when considered with reference to the times 
that gave them birth, may justly be entitled to no small 
share of applause. 

The glory of Cimabue was obscured by that of his disci- 

Gio«o pl e Giotto , 6 who, from figuring the sheep which it 
was his business to tend, became the best painter 
that Italy had produced . 7 It affords no inadequate proof of 

3 Engraved in the “ Etruria Pittrice,” No. iii. Under this picture is inscribed, in 
Gothic characters, the following verse :— 

Me Guido de Senis diebus depinxit amenis 
Quem Christus lenis nullis velit agere penis. 

A. D. MCCXXI. 

4 Vasari, Vita di Cimabue. 

5 Engraved in the “ Etruria Pittrice/’ No. viii. The virgin is seated with the in¬ 
fant on her knee, in a rich chair, which is supported by six angels, represented as 
adults, though less than the child. The head of the virgin is somewhat inclined, the 
countenance melancholy, not without some pretensions to grace; the rest of the 
picture is in the true style of Gothic formality. 

6 “ Credette Cimabue nella pintura, 

Tener lo Campo ; ed ora ha Giotto il grido, 

Si che la fama di colui oscura.” Dante Purg., cant. xi. 

7 Manni, in his “ Illustr. del Boccaccio,” p. 414, deduces the name of Giotto from 
Angiolotto; but M. Tenhove with more probability derives it from Ambrogio. 
Ambrogio , Ambrogiotto, Giotto ; “ Quel etranger,” says this lively author, “ aper?oit 
d’abord sous les bizarres deguisemens de Bista, Betto, Bambo, Bindo, Bacci, Tani, 
Cece, Gioma, Nigi, Meo, Nanni, Vanni, Mazo, Lippo, Lippozzo, Pipo, Guccio, Mico, 
Caca, Toto, &c. les noms de bateme les plus vulgaires et les plus communs ? Les 
autres Italiens se sont toujours, moques de cet usage Florentin, qui en effet n’est pas 
moins risible que si M. Hume, dans sa belle histoire d’Angleterre, nous entretenait 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


319 


1490.] 

his high reputation, when we find him indulging his humour 
in an imitation of the celebrated artist of Cos, and sending 
to the pope, who had desired to see one of his drawings, a 
circle, struck with such freedom, as to shew the hand of a 
master, yet with such truth, as to have given rise to a pro¬ 
verb. 8 Inferior artists hazard not such freedoms with the 
great. Giotto seems, however, to have delighted in the 
eccentricities of the art. One of his first essays, when he 
began to study under Cimabue, was to paint a fly on the 
nose of one of his master’s portraits, which the deluded 
artist attempted to brush off with his hand ; 9 a tale that may 
rank with the horse of Apelles, the curtain of Parrhasius, 
or the grapes of Zeuxis. Boccaccio has introduced this cele¬ 
brated painter with great approbation in one of his novels ; 10 a 
singular conversation is said to have occurred between him and 
Dante j 11 and Petrarca held his works in such high esteem, 
that one of his pictures is the subject of a legacy to a parti¬ 
cular friend in his will. 13 Upwards of a century after his 
death, Lorenzo de’ Medici, well aware that the most effica¬ 
cious method of exciting the talents of the living is to con¬ 
fer due honour on departed merit, raised a bust to his 
memory in the church of S. Maria del Fiore , the inscrip¬ 
tion for which was furnished by Politiano. 

The merits of Giotto and his school are appreciated with 
great judgment by Vasari who attributes to him Character of 
and his predecessor Cimabue the credit of having his works * 
banished the insipid and spiritless manner introduced by 
the Greek artists, and given rise to a new and more natural 

de Billy le conquerant, de Tom, BecTcet , de Jachey le grand-terrein, appele Sans- 
Terre, des grands Rois Ned I. et III. du nom, de la bigotte Reine Molly , de la grande 
Reine Bess, et de son cher amant Bobby Devereux, envoye par elle au supplice,” &c. 
Mem. Gen. &c. liv. i. p. 37. 

8 “ Divolgatasi poi questa cosa, ne nacque il proverbio, che ancora e in uso dirsi a 
gli uomini di grossa pasta: Tu sei pi a tondo che V 0 di Giotto .” Vasar. Vita di 
Giotto. 

9 Vasari, Vita di Giotto. 10 Decam. Gior. vi. Nov. 5 

11 Benvenuto da Imola, one of the commentators of Dante, relates, that whilst 
Giotto resided at Padua, Dante paid him a visit, and was received by him with great 
attention. Observing however that the children of Giotto bore a great resemblance 
to their father, whose features and appearance were not very prepossessing, he in¬ 
quired how it came to pass that his pictures and his children were so very unlike to 
each other, the former being so beautiful, the latter so coarse. “ Quia pingo de die, 
sed fingo de nocte,” said the painter. Manni, Illust. del Bocc. p. 417. 

12 Vasari, Vita di Giotto. 


320 


THE LIFE OF 


CH. IX. 


style of composition. This the historian denominates the 
maniera di Giotto “ Instead of the harsh outline, cir¬ 
cumscribing the whole figure, the glaring eyes, the pointed 
feet and hands, and all the defects arising from a total want 
of shadow, the figures of Giotto exhibit a better attitude, 
the heads have an air of life and freedom, the drapery is 
more natural, and there are even some attempts at fore¬ 
shortening the limbs.” “Besides these improvements,” 
continues this author, “ Giotto was the first who represented 
in his pictures the effect of the passions on the human 
countenance. That he did not proceed further must be at¬ 
tributed to the difficulties which attend the progress of the 
art, and to the want of better examples. In many of the 
essential requisites of his profession he was indeed equalled, 
if not surpassed, by some of his contemporaries. The 
colouring of Gaddi had more force and harmony, and the 
attitudes of his figures more vivacity. Simone da Sienna 
is to be preferred to him in the composition of his subjects, 
and other painters excelled him in other branches of the 
art; but Giotto had laid the solid foundation of their im¬ 
provements. It is true, all that was effected by these 
masters may be considered only as the first rude sketch of 
a sculptor towards completing an elegant statue, and if no 
further progress had been made, there would not, upon the 
whole, have been much to commend; but whoever con¬ 
siders the difficulties under which their works were executed, 


13 Proemio di Giorgio Vasari to the second part of his work, written, like all his 
other prefaces, with great judgment, candour, and historical knowledge of his art.— 
Tractant fabrillia fabri—The early painters are fortunate in possessing an historian, 
who, without envy, spleen, or arrogance, and with as little prejudice or partiality as 
the imperfection of human nature will allow, has distributed to each of his characters 
his due portion of applause. If he has on any occasion shewn too apparent a bias 
in favour of an individual, it leans towards Michelagnolo Buonarroti, in whose 
friendship he gloried, and whose works he diligently studied; but an excess of admi¬ 
ration for this great man will scarcely he imputed to him as a fault. As a painter and 
an architect, Vasari holds a respectable rank. In the former department his produc¬ 
tions are extremely numerous. One of his principal labours is his historical suite 
of pictures of the Medici family, with their portraits, painted for the great duke 
Cosmo I. in the Palazzo Vecchio at Florence, of which Vasari himself has given a 
particular account, published by Filippo Giunti, in 1588, and entitled “ Ragionamenti 
del Sig. Cav. Giorgio Vasari sopra le invenzioni da lui dipinte in Firenze,” &c. Re¬ 
printed in Arezzo, 1762. In this series of pictures are represented the principal 
incidents in the life of Lorenzo. This work has been engraved, but not in such a 
manner as to do justice to the painter. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


321 


1490.] 

the ignorance of the times, the rarity of good models, and 
the impossibility of obtaining instruction, will esteem them 
not only as commendable, but wonderful productions, and 
will perceive with pleasure these first sparks of improve¬ 
ment which were afterwards fanned into so bright a flame.” 

The patronage of the family of the Medici is almost 
contemporary with the commencement of the art. The Me- 
Giovanni de’ Medici, the father of Cosmo, had em- 
ployed his fellow-citizen, Lorenzo de’ Bicci, to or- arts - 
nanient with portraits a chamber in one of his houses in 
Florence, which afterwards became the residence of Lo¬ 
renzo, the brother of Cosmo . 14 The liberality of Cosmo 
led the way to further improvement. Under Ma¬ 
saccio, the study of nature and actual observation 
were substituted for cold and servile imitation. By this 
master, his competitors, and his scholars, every component 
branch of the art was carried to some degree of perfection. 
Paolo Uccello was the first who boldly surmounted p ao io u c - 
the difficulty which Giotta, though sensible of its cell °* 
importance, had ineffectually attempted to overcome, and 
gave that ideal depth to his labours, which is the essence of 
picturesque representation . 15 This he accomplished by his 
superior knowledge of perspective, which he studied in 
conjunction with the celebrated Gianozzo Manetti, and in 
the attainment of which the painter and the scholar were 
mutually serviceable to each other . 16 The rules which he 
thence acquired he applied to practice, not only in the 
backgrounds of his pictures, but in his representations of 
the human figure, of which he expressed the Scorci , or 
fore-shortenings, with accuracy and effect . 17 The merit of 
having been the first to apply the mathematical rules to the 
improvement of works of art, and the proficiency which he 
made in so necessary and so laborious a study, if it had not 
obtained from Vasari a greater share of praise, ought at 

14 Vasar. in Vita di Lor. de’ Bicca. 15 Etruria Pittrice, No. xiv. 

16 Baldinuc. Dec. ii. del. par. i. sec. iv. 

17 In his picture of the inebriety of Noah, in the church of S. Maria Novello, is a 
figure of the patriarch stretched on the ground, with his feet towards the spectator; 
yet even in this difficult attitude, the painter has succeeded in giving an explicit idea 
of his subject. Vide Etrur. Pittr. No. xiv. 


21 


322 THE LIFE OF [CH. IX. 

least to have secured the artist from that ridicule with 
which he seems inclined to treat him. 18 The elder 
Fra Filippo, j^ppi g ave £ 0 hi s figures a boldness and 

grandeur before unknown. He attended also to the effect 
of his backgrounds, which were however in general too mi¬ 
nutely finished. About two years after his death, which 
happened in the year 1469, Lorenzo de’ Medici, who was 
then absent from Florence on a journey, to congratulate 
Sixtus IV. on his accession to the pontificate, took the op¬ 
portunity of passing through Spoleto, where he requested 
permission from the magistrates to remove the ashes of the 
artist to the church of S. Maria del Fiore at Florence. The 
community of that place were unwilling to relinquish so 
honourable a deposit; and Lorenzo was therefore content 
to testify his respect for the memory of the painter, by 
engaging his son, the younger Filippo, to erect in the church 
of Spoleto a monument of marble, the inscription upon 
which, written by Politiano, has led his historian, Mencke- 
nius, into a mistake almost too apparent to admit of an 
excuse. 19 

In the anatomy of the human figure, which now began 

Antonio to engage the more minute attention of the painter, 
poiiajuoio. Antonio Pollajuolo took the lead of all his compe¬ 
titors. By accurate observation, as well on the dead as on 
the living, he acquired a competent knowledge of the form 

18 “ La moglie soleva dire che tutta la notte Paolo stava nello scrittoio, per trovar i 
termini della prospettiva, e che quando ella lo chiamava a dormire, egli le diceva, 
O che dolce cosa e questa prospettiva! ” Vas. Vita di Paolo. 

19 In Philippum Fratrem Pictorem. 

“ Conditus hie ego sum Picturae fama Philippus ; 

Nulli ignota mese est gratia mira manus. 

Artifices potui digitis animare colores, 

Sperataque animos fallere voce diu. 

Ipsa meis stupuit natura expressa figuris, 

Meque suis fassa est artibus esse parem. 

Marmoreo tumulo Medices Laurentius hie m 
Condidit: ante humili pulvere tectus eram.” 

From the appellation of Frater, given to Lippi by Politiano, Menckenius con¬ 
jectures that he was his brother. “ Is enim quis sit, cujus hie frater dicitur 
Philippus, si Politianus non est, hariolari non possum.” (Menck. in Vita Pol. p. 31.) 
Filippo had entered into holy orders, whence he was called Fra Filippo ; a circum¬ 
stance which Menckenius might easily have discovered, though he professes not to 
have been able to obtain any information respecting it. “ Nihil enim ea de re scriptores 
alii, etsi non desint, qui maxime excelluisse hunc Philippum nobilissima pingendi arte 
suo confirment testimonio.” Ibid. p. 637 


LORENZO DE J MEDICI. 


323 


1490.] 

and action of the muscles, which he exemplified in a striking 
manner in his picture of Hercules and Antaeus, painted for 
Lorenzo de’ Medici, in which he is said not only to have 
expressed the strength of the conqueror, but the languor 
and inanimation of the conquered; but his most celebrated 
work is the death of S. Sebastian, yet preserved in the 
chapel of the Pucci family at Plorence, and of which Vasari 
has given a particular account. 20 In this picture, the figure 
of the dying saint was painted from nature after Gino 
Capponi. In the figures of the two assassins, who are 
bending their crossbows, he has shewn great knowledge 
of muscular action. Baldovinetti excelled in por- Ba]dovinetl . 
traits, which he frequently introduced in his his¬ 
torical subjects. In a picture of the queen of Sheba on a 
visit to Solomon, he painted the likeness of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, and of the celebrated mechanic Lorenzo da Volpaia; 21 
and in another picture intended as its companion, those of 
Giuliano de’ Medici, Luca Pitti, and other Plorentine citi¬ 
zens. The resemblance of Lorenzo was also introduced by 
Domenico Ghirlandajo in a picture of S. Francesco taking 
the habit, painted by him in the chapel of the Trinity at 
Florence. Until this time the pictures of the Tuscan artists 
had been executed in distemper, or with colours rendered 
cohesive by glutinous substances. The practice of painting 
in oil, so essentially necessary to the duration of a picture, 
was now first introduced amongst his countrymen Andrea da 
by Andrea da Castagna. 22 The younger Filippo c * s ^ gn *' 
Lippi attempted, and not without effect, to give a Lipp PP ° 

20 Vasari, Vita di Pollajuolo. This picture is engraved and published in the 
u Etruria Pittrice,” No. xxiv. 21 Vas. Vita di Baldov. vide 276. 

22 Baldin. Dec. iii. sec. v. The invention of painting in oil, though introduced so 
late into Italy, is probably more ancient than has generally been supposed. It is 
commonly attributed to the Flemish artists, Hubert and John Van Eyck, who flou¬ 
rished about the year 1400; hut Professor Lessing, in a small treatise “ Sur l’an- 
ciennete de la Peinture a l’Huile,” printed at Brunswick in 1774, has endeavoured to 
shew that this art is of much greater antiquity. His suggestions have since been 
confirmed by the researches of M. de Mechel of Basle, who, in arranging the im¬ 
mense collection of pictures of the imperial gallery of Vienna, has discovered several 
pieces painted in oil, as early as the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Of these 
the earliest is a picture by Thomas de Mutina, a Bohemian gentleman; the others 
are by Theodoric of Prague, and Nic. Wurmser of Strasbourg, both artists at the 
court of the emperor Charles IV. Vide Meckel, Catal. des Tabl. de Vienne, &c. 
in pref. 


324 


THE LTFE OE 


[CH. IX. 

greater share of energy and animation to his productions. 
His attitudes are frequently bold and diversified; and his 
figures have expression, vivacity, and motion. 23 It is de¬ 
serving of remark, that he prepared the way to the study of 
the antique, by introducing into his pictures the vases, 
utensils, arms, and dresses of the ancients. 24 But of all the 
L U ca masters of this period, perhaps Luca Signorelli 

signorem. united the most important excellences; his com¬ 
position was good; in drawing the naked figure he parti¬ 
cularly excelled; 25 in his picture of the institution of the 
Eucharist, yet remaining in the choir of the cathedral at 
Cortona, 26 the figure of Christ might be mistaken for the 
production of one of the Caracci. In the variety and ex¬ 
pression of countenance, in the disposition of the drapery, 
even in the just distribution of light, this picture has great 
merit; and if some remnants of the manner of the times 
prevent us from giving it unlimited approbation, it may 
certainly be considered as the harbinger of a better taste. 

The art of sculpture, dependent on the same principles, 
progress of and susceptible of improvement from the same 

sculpture, causes as that of painting, made a proportionable 

progress. The inventive genius of the Italian artists had 
very early applied it to almost every variety of material; 
and figures in wood, in clay, in metals, and in marble, 
were fashioned by Giovanni and Niccolo Pisano, by Agostino 
N.ccoio and Agnolo Sanese, which, though rude and 

Pisano, incorrect, excited the admiration of the times 

in which they were produced. Their successor Andrea 
Pisano, the contemporary of Giotto, supported the credit 
Andrea of the art, which was then endangered by the 

Pisano, sudden progress of its powerful rival; and in the 

early part of the fifteenth century the talents of Ghiberti 

23 His celebrated picture of S. Filippo and the serpent, painted in the chapel of 
the Strozzi at Florence, and engraved in the “ Etruria Pittrice,” No. xxvii., is a suf¬ 
ficient proof of the truth of this remark. Filippo Lippi was the son of the former 
painter of the same name, usually called Fra Filippo. Lorenzo employed him to 
ornament his palace at Poggio-Cajano, where he painted a Sacrifice in fresco, but 
the work was left unfinished. ™ Vasar. Vita di Filip. 

25 Vasar. Vita di Luca Signorelli. It must however be observed, that Luca lived 
till 1521, before which time an important reformation had taken place in the arts. 

26 Engraved in the “ Etruria Pittrice,” No. xxxii. 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


325 


1490.] 


Ghiberti and 
Donatello. 


and Donatello earned it to a degree of eminence which 
challenged the utmost exertions, and perhaps even 
excited the jealousy of the first painters of the age. 

It must indeed be acknowledged that the advantages which 
sculpture possesses are neither few nor unimportant. The 
severe and simple mode of its execution, the veracity of 
which it is susceptible, and the durability of its productions, 
place it in a favourable point of view, when opposed to an 
art whose success is founded on illusion, which not only 
admits, but courts meretricious ornament, and whose monu¬ 
ments are fugitive and perishable. 27 These arts, so distinct 
in their operations, approach each other in works in rilievo, 
which unite the substantial form that characterizes sculp¬ 
ture, with the ideal depth of picturesque composition. In 
this province Donatello particularly excelled; and in Cosmo 
de’ Medici he found a patron who had judgment to per¬ 
ceive and liberality to reward his merits. But the genius 
of Donatello was not confined to one department. His group 
of Judith and Holofernes, executed in bronze for the com¬ 
munity of Florence, his statue of S. George, his Annuncia¬ 
tion, and his Zuccone, in one of the niches of the Cam¬ 
panile at Florence, all of which yet remain, have met with 
the uniform approbation of succeeding times, and are per¬ 
haps as perfect as the narrow principles upon which the art 
was then conducted would allow. 

Notwithstanding the exertions of the early painters, which 
were regarded with astonishment by their contem- Imperfection 
poraries, and are yet entitled to attention and of the art of 
respect, it does not appear that they had raised their pa ,mng ‘ 
views to the true end of the profession. 28 Their characters 
rarely excelled the daily prototypes of common life; and 
their forms, although at times sufficiently accurate, were 
often vulgar and heavy. In the pictures which remain of 


27 I am aware that much is to be said on the opposite side of the question, but I 
mean not to discuss a subject upon which almost every writer on the history of the 
arts has either directly or incidentally exercised his ingenuity. Among others, I 
may refer the reader to the “ Proemi” of Vasari, the “ Lezzione” of Benedetto 
Varchi, “ della maggioranza dell’ arti,” the works of Baldinucci, Richardson, and 
Mengs, and to the posthumous works of Dr. Adam Smith, lately published, (1795,) in 
which the reader will find many acute observations on this subject. 

18 Baldin. Dec. iii. sec. v. 


326 THE LIFE OF [CH. IX. 

this period, the limbs are not marked with that precision 
which characterizes a well informed artist. The hands and 
feet, in particular, appear soft, enervated, and delicate, with¬ 
out distinction of sex or character. Many practices yet re¬ 
mained that evince the imperfect state of the art. Ghir- 
landajo and Baldovinetti continued to introduce the por¬ 
traits of their employers in historic composition, forgetful of 
that simplex duntaxat et unum with which a just taste can 
never dispense. Cosimo Roselli, a painter of no inconsi¬ 
derable reputation, attempted, by the assistance of gold and 
ultramarine, to give a factitious splendour to his perform¬ 
ances. To everything great and elevated, the art was yet 
a stranger; even the celebrated picture of Pollajuolo ex¬ 
hibits only a group of half-naked and vulgar wretches, dis¬ 
charging their arrows at a miserable fellow-creature, who, 
by changing places with one of his murderers, might with 
equal propriety become a murderer hiniself. 29 Nor was it 
until the time of Michelagnolo that painting and sculpture 
rose to their true object, and, instead of exciting the won¬ 
der, began to rouse the passions and interest the feelings of 
mankind. 

By what fortunate concurrence of circumstances the ex- 
Causes of im- quisite taste evinced by the ancients in works of art 
provement. was rev i vec [ j ri modern times, deserves inquiry. It 
has generally been supposed that these arts, having left in 
Greece some traces of their former splendour, were trans¬ 
planted into Italy by Greek artists, who, either led by hopes 
of emolument, or impelled by the disastrous state of their 
own country, sought, among the ruins of the western em- 


29 Objects of horror and disgust, the cold detail of deliberate barbarity, can 
never be proper subjects of art, because they exclude the etforts of genius. Even 
the powers of Shakspeare are annihilated in the butcheries of Titus Andronicus. 
Yet the reputation of some of the most celebrated Italian painters has been princi¬ 
pally founded on this kind of representation. “ Ici,” says M. Tenhove, “ c’est 
S. Etienne qu’on lapide, et dont je crains que la cervelle ne rejaillisse sur moi; plus 
loin c’est S. Barthelemi tout sanglant, tout ecorche; je compte ses muscles et ses 
nerfs. Vingt fleches ont crible Sebastien. L’horrible tete du Baptiste est dans ce 
plat. Le gril de S. Laurent sert de pendant a la chaudiere de S. Jean—Je recule 
d’horreur.” (Mem. Gen. Ub. x.) May it not well be doubted, whether spectacles 
of this kind, so frequent in places devoted to religious purposes, may not have had 
a tendency rather to keep alive a spirit of ferocity and resentment, than to incul¬ 
cate those mild and benevolent principles in which the essence of religion consists ? 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


327 


1490.] 

pire, a shelter from the impending destruction of the east. 
Of the labours of these masters, specimens indeed remain 
in different parts of Italy; but, in point of merit, they ex¬ 
ceed not those of the native Italians, and some of them even 
bear the marks of deeper barbarism . 30 In fact, these arts 
were equally debased in Greece and in Italy, and it was 
not therefore by an intercourse of this nature that they 
were likely to receive improvement. Happily, however, the 
same favourable circumstances which contributed to the re¬ 
vival of letters took place also with respect to the arts; and 
if the writings of the ancient authors excited the admira¬ 
tion and called forth the exertions of the scholar, the re¬ 
mains of ancient skill in marble, gems, and other durable 
materials, at length caught the attention of the artist, and 
were converted from objects of wonder into models of imi¬ 
tation. To facilitate the progress of these studies, other 
fortunate circumstances concurred. The freedom of the 
Italian governments, and particularly that of Florence, gave 
to the human faculties their full energies . 31 The labours of 
the painter were early associated with the mysteries of the 
prevailing religion, whilst the wealth and ostentation of 
individuals and of states, held out rewards sufficient to 
excite the endeavours even of the phlegmatic and the 
indolent. 

From the time of the consul Mummius, who, whilst he 
plundered the city of Corinth of its beautiful pro- Sculpture of 
ductions of art, regarded them rather as house- the ancient 
hold furniture, than as pieces of exquisite skill , 33 
the avidity of the Romans for the works of the Grecian 
artists had been progressively increasing, till at length they 
became the first objects of proconsular rapacity, and the 
highest gratification of partrician luxury. The astonishing 
number which Verres had acquired during his government 
of Sicily, forms one of the most striking features of the in¬ 
vectives of Cicero; who asserts, that throughout that whole 
province, so distinguished by the riches and taste of its in¬ 
habitants, there was not a single statue or figure, either of 

30 Tenh. Mem. Gen. lib. vii. 31 Operc di Mengs, vol. i. p. 228. 

32 Vel. Paterc. lib. i. c. 13. 


328 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IX. 

bronze, marble, or ivory, not a picture or a piece of tapestry, 
not a gem or a precious stone, not even a gold or silver 
utensil, of the workmanship of Corinth or Delos, which 
Yerres during his praetorship had not sought out and 
examined, and if he approved of it, brought it away with 
him; insomuch that Syracuse, under his government, lost 
more statues than it had lost soldiers in the victory of 
Marcellus. 33 Such, however, was the desolation which took 
place in Italy during the middle ages, occasioned not only 
by natural calamities, but by the yet more destructive opera¬ 
tion of moral causes, the rage of superstition, and the fero¬ 
city of barbarian conquerors, that of the innumerable spe¬ 
cimens of art, which, till the times of the later emperors, 
had decorated the palaces and villas of the Roman nobility, 
scarcely a specimen or a vestige was, in the beginning of 
the fifteenth century, to be discovered. Even the city of 
Rome could only display six statues, five of marble and 
one of brass, the remains of its former splendour; 34 and 
the complaint of Petrarca was not therefore without reason, 
that Rome was in no place less known than in Rome 
itself. 35 

In tracing the vicissitudes which the arts have experienced, 
Researches we observe with pleasure, that the same persons 
“ a n' who signalized themselves by their attention to 
tiquity. preserve the writings of the ancient authors, were 
those to whom posterity is indebted for the restoration of a 
Petrarca better taste in the arts. Petrarca himself 1 is one of the 
first who displayed a marked attention to the remains 


33 The very minute account given by the Roman orator, in his fourth accusation 
against Verres, of the pieces of Grecian sculpture which he obtained from Sicily, 
has enabled the Abbe Fraguier to draw up a dissertation, which he has entitled the 
Gallery of Verres. (Mem. de Litt. vol. ix. p. 260. Winckel. Storia delle Arti del 
Disegno, lib. x. c. 3. Ed. Milan, 1779, in not.) Amongst those particularly enume¬ 
rated by Cicero, is a marble statue of Cupid by Praxiteles, a Hercules in bronze by 
Myron, two Canephorae, or female figures, representing Athenian virgins, bearing on 
their heads implements of sacrifice, the work of Polycletes ; a celebrated statue of 
Diana, which after having been carried off from the citizens of Segesta by the Car¬ 
thaginians, was restored to them by Scipio Africanus; another of Mercury, which 
had been given them by the same liberal benefactor; the statues of Ceres, of 
iEsculapius, of Bacchus, and lastly that of Jupiter himself, of which the sacrile¬ 
gious amateur scrupled not to plunder his temple at Syracuse. Cic. in Verrem, lib. iv. 

34 Pog. de Varietate Fortunte, p. 20. 35 Epist. Fam. lib. vi. ep. 2. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


329 


1490.] 

of antiquity. 36 On his interview with the emperor Charles 
IV. at Mantua, he presented to that monarch a considerable 
number of coins, which he had himself collected; at the 
same time assuring him, that he would not have bestowed 
them on any other person, and, with a degree of freedom 
which does him honour, recommending to the emperor, 
whilst he studied the history, to imitate the virtues of the 
persons there represented. Lorenzo de’ Medici, Lorenzo de- 
brother of Cosmo, distinguished himself not only £ r 0 ° s '_ 
by his assiduity in collecting the remains of ancient mo * 
authors, but also by a decided predilection for works of 
taste, in the acquisition of which he emulated the celebrity 
of his brother. From the funeral oration pronounced by 
Poggio on the death of Niccolo Niccoli, to whom Ni cco]o 
the cause of literature is perhaps more indebted Niccoli - 
than to any individual who held merely a private station, we 
learn, that he was highly delighted with paintings and pieces 
of sculpture, of which he had collected a greater number, 
and of more exquisite workmanship, than any person of his 
time ; and that visitors thronged to see them, not as to a 
private house, but as to a public exhibition. Nor was 
Poggio himself less attentive to the discovery and p ogg ioBrac- 
acquisition of these precious remains. My ciolini - 
chamber,” says he, “ is surrounded with busts in marble, 
one of which is whole and elegant. The others are indeed 
mutilated, and some of them are even noseless, yet they are 
such as may please a good artist. With these, and some 
other pieces which I possess, I intend to ornament my 
country seat.” In a letter from Poggio to Francesco da 

a6 The famous Cola di Rienzi, who called himself Tribune of Rome, and attempted 
in the fourteenth century to establish the ancient republic, was, as well as his friend 
and panegyrist Petrarca, a great admirer of the remains of antiquity. It is not indeed 
improbable, as Tirabosclii conjectures, that the indulgence of this taste first incited 
him to his romantic project. The character of Rienzi is given by a contemporary 
author in the following terms, which may serve as a curious specimen of the Italian 
language : “ Fo da soa joventutine nutricato de latte de eloquentia, bono Gramma- 
tico, megliore Rettorico, Autorista bravo. Deh como e quanto era veloce leitore ! 
Moito usava Tito Livio, Seneca, e Tullio, e Balerio Massimo: moito li dilettava le 
magnificentie de Julio Cesare raccontare. Tutto lo die se speculava degF intagli de 
marmo, li quali jaccio intonno a Roma. Non era aitri che esse che sapesse lejere li 
antichi patafiij. Tutte scritture antiche volgamzzava; queste fiure de marmo justa- 
mente interpretava.” Tirab. Storia della Let. Ital. vol. v. p. 314. Mem. pour la 
Vie de Petr. vol. ii. p. 335. 


330 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IX. 

Pistoia, a monk who had travelled to Greece in search of 
antiquities, we have a much more explicit instance of the 
ardour with which he pursued this object. “ By your letters 
from Chios/' says Poggio, “ I learn that you have procured 
for me three busts in marble, one of Minerva, another of 
Jupiter, a third of Bacchus. These letters afforded me great 
satisfaction, for I am delighted beyond expression with 
pieces of sculpture. I am charmed with the skill of the 
artist, when I see marble so wrought as to imitate Nature 
herself. You also inform me that you have obtained a head 
of Apollo, and you add from Virgil, 

‘ Miros ducent de Marmore vultus.’ 

“ Believe me, my friend, you cannot confer a greater favour 
on me than by returning laden with such works, by which 
you will abundantly gratify my wishes. Different persons 
labour under different disorders; that which principally 
affects me is an admiration of these productions of eminent 
sculptors, to which I am perhaps more devoted than be¬ 
comes a man who may pretend to some share of learning. 
Nature herself, it is true, must always excel these her 
copies; yet I must be allowed to admire that art, which 
can give such expression to inert materials, that nothing but 
breath seems to be wanting. Exert yourself therefore, I 
beseech you, to collect, either by entreaties or rewards, what¬ 
ever you can find that possesses any merit. If you can 
procure a complete figure, trmmphatum est” Being in¬ 
formed by Francesco, that a Rhodian named Suffretus had 
in his possession a considerable number of antique sculp¬ 
tures, Poggio addressed a letter to him, earnestly requesting 
to be favoured with such specimens from his valuable col¬ 
lection as he might think proper to spare, and assuring him, 
that his kindness should be remunerated by the earliest op¬ 
portunity. In the same earnest style, and for the same pur¬ 
pose, he addressed himself to Andreolo Giustiniano, a Vene¬ 
tian, then residing in Greece. Induced by his pressing 
entreaties, both Suffretus and Giustiniano intrusted to the 
monk some valuable works ; but, to the great disappoint¬ 
ment of Poggio, he betrayed the confidence reposed in him, 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


331 


1490.] 

and, under the pretext that he had been robbed of them in 
his voyage, defrauded Poggio of the chief part of his trea¬ 
sures, which, as it afterwards appeared, he presented to 
Cosmo de’ Medici. The indignation of Poggio on this oc¬ 
casion is poured forth in a letter to Giustiniano, whose 
liberality he again solicits, and which he professes to have 
in some degree repaid, by obtaining for him from the pope 
a dispensation to enable his daughter to marry; thus sa¬ 
crilegiously, though almost excusably, bartering the favours 
of the church for the objects of his favourite study and the 
gratification of his taste. 

The riches of Cosmo de’ Medici, and the industry of 
Donatello, 37 united to give rise to the celebrated Collection 
collection of antiquities, which, with considerable ^med^y 
additions, was transmitted by Piero to his son Cosmo - 
Lorenzo, and is now . denominated the Museum Florenti - 
nmn. By an estimate or account taken by Piero on the 
death of his father, it appears that these pieces amounted 
in value to more than 28,000 florins. 38 But it was reserved 
for Lorenzo to enrich this collection with its most valuable 
articles, and to render it subservient to its true purpose, 
that of inspiring in his countrymen a correct and genuine 
taste for the arts. 

Of the earnestness with which Lorenzo engaged in this 
pursuit, some instances have been already adduced • Augmented 
“ Such an admirer was he,” says Valori, 40 “ of all by Lorenzo - 
the remains of antiquity, that there was not anything with 
which he was more delighted. Those who wished to oblige 
him were accustomed to collect, from every part of the 
world, medals and coins, estimable for their age or their 
workmanship, statues, busts, and whatever else bore the 
stamp of antiquity. On my return from Naples,” adds he, 
“ I presented him with figures of Faustina and Africanus 
in marble, and several other specimens of ancient art; nor 
can I easily express with what pleasure he received them.” 
Having long desired to possess the resemblance of Plato, 

37 Vasar. Vita di Donato. 

38 Fabr. in Vita Cosm. Adnot. et. Monum. p. 231. Vide App. No. XL. 

39 Vide p. 95. See also the letter from Politiano to Lorenzo. App. No. XXX. 

‘“ ) Valor. inVitaLaur. p. 18. 


he was rejoiced beyond measure when Girolamo Roscio of 
Pistoia presented to him a figure in marble of his favourite 
philosopher, which was said to have been found among the 
ruins of the academy. 41 By his constant attention to this 
pursuit, and by the expenditure of considerable sums, he 
collected under his roof all the remains of antiquity that 
fell in his way, whether they tended to illustrate the history 
of letters or of arts. His acknowledged acquaintance with 
these productions induced the celebrated Era Giocondo, of 
Verona, the most industrious antiquary of his time, to 
inscribe to him his collection of ancient inscriptions, of 
which Politiano, who was a competent judge of the subject, 
speaks with high approbation. 42 

But it is not the industry, the liberality, or the judgment 
Lorenzo es- shewn by Lorenzo in forming his magnificent col- 
schooi es for l ec ti° n > so much as the important purpose to which 
the study of he destined it, that entitles him to the esteem of 
the antique. ^ p ro f essors ailc [ admirers of the arts. Con¬ 
versant from his youth with the finest forms of antiquity, 
he perceived and lamented the inferiority of his contem¬ 
porary artists, and the impossibility of their improvement 
upon the principles then adopted. He determined there¬ 
fore to excite among them, if possible, a better taste, and, 
by proposing to their imitation the remains of the ancient 
masters, to elevate their views beyond the forms of common 
life, to the contemplation of that ideal beauty which alone 
distinguishes works of art from mere mechanical produc¬ 
tions. 'With this view he appropriated his gardens, ad¬ 
jacent to the monastery of S. Marco, to the establishment 
of a school or academy for the study of the antique, and 
furnished the different buildings and avenues with statues, 
busts, and other pieces of ancient workmanship. Of these 
he appointed the sculptor Bertoldo, the favourite pupil of 
Donatello, but who was then far advanced in years, super- 

41 In the diligent researches made at the instance of Lorenzo for the discovery of 
ancient manuscripts, his agents frequently met with curious specimens of art. The 
inventory of the hooks purchased by Giovanni Lascar, from one Nicolo di Jacopo da 
Siena, concludes with particularizing a marble statue. This contract and inventory 
are yet preserved in MS. in the archives of the Palazzo Vecchio at Florence. Filz. 
lxxxi. No. 26. « Polit . Miscell. c. 77. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


333 


1490.] 

intendent. The attention of the higher rank of his fellow- 
citizens was incited to these pursuits by the example of 
Lorenzo; that of the lower class, by his liberality. To the 
latter he not only allowed competent stipends, whilst they 
attended to their studies, but appointed considerable pre¬ 
miums as the rewards of their proficiency. 43 

To this institution, more than to any other circumstance, 
we may, without hesitation, ascribe the sudden Micheiagnoio 
and astonishing proficiency which, towards the Buonarroti * 
close of the fifteenth century, was evidently made in the 
arts, and which commencing at Florence, extended itself in 
concentric circles to the rest of Europe. The gardens of 
Lorenzo de’ Medici are frequently celebrated by the his¬ 
torian of the painters, as the nursery of men of genius ; u 
but if they had produced no other artist than Micheiagnoio 
Buonarroti, they would sufficiently have answered the pur¬ 
poses of their founder. It was here that this great man 
began to imbibe that spirit which was destined to effect a 
reformation in the arts, and which he could perhaps have 
derived from no other source. 45 Of a noble but reduced 
family, he had been placed by his father, when young, 
under the tuition of the painter Ghirlandajo, from whom 
Lorenzo, desirous of promoting his new establishment, re¬ 
quested that he would permit two of his pupils to pursue 
their studies in his gardens; at the same time expressing 
his hopes that they would there obtain such instruction as 
woidd not only reflect honour on the institution, but also 
on themselves and on their country. The students who 
had the good fortune to be thus selected were Micheiagnoio 
and Francesco Granacci. 46 On the first visit of Michei¬ 
agnoio, he found in the gardens his future adversary, 
Torrigiano, who under the directions of Bertoldo, was mo¬ 
delling figures in clay. Micheiagnoio applied himself to 
the same occupation, and his work soon afterwards attracted 
the attention of Lorenzo, who, from these early specimens, 

43 Vasari, Vita di Torrigiano, e di Micheiagnoio, &c. 

44 Vasari adverts also to this establishment in his “ Ragionamenti,” p. 75. 

45 Mengs, on several occasions, attributes the superior excellence of Micheiagnoio 
to the same favourable circumstance. Op. di Mengs, vol. ii. pp. 99, 109. 

46 Vasar. Vita di Michelagn. 


334 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IX. 

formed great expectations of his talents. Encouraged by 
such approbation, he began to cut in marble the head of a 
faun, after an antique sculpture, 47 which, though unaccus¬ 
tomed to the chisel, he executed with such skid as to asto¬ 
nish Lorenzo; who, observing that he had made some in¬ 
tentional deviations from the original, and that in particular 
he had represented the lips smoother, and had shewn the 
tongue and teeth, remarked to him, with his accustomed 
jocularity, that he should have remembered that old men 
seldom exhibit a complete range of teeth. The docile artist, 
who paid no less respect to the judgment than to the rank 
of Lorenzo, was no sooner left to himself than he struck 
out one of the teeth, giving to the part the appearance of 
its having been lost by age. 48 On his next visit Lorenzo 
was equally delighted with the disposition and genius of his 
young pupil, and, sending for his father, not only took the 
son under his particular protection, but made such a pro¬ 
vision for the old man, as his age and the circumstances of 
his numerous family required. 49 From this time till the 
Resides with death of Lorenzo, which included an interval of 
Lorenzo. f 0iu * years, Michelagnolo constantly resided in the 
palace of the Medici, and sat at the table of Lorenzo, 
among his most honoured guests ; 50 where, by a commend¬ 
able regulation, the troublesome distinctions of rank were 
abolished, and every person took his place in the order of 
0 his arrival. Hence the young artist found himself at once 
associated on terms of equality with all that was illustrious 
and learned in Florence, and formed those connections and 
friendships which, if they do not create, are at least neces- 

47 This early specimen of the genius of Michelagnolo is yet preserved in the Me- 
dicean gallery at Florence, in the keeper’s room, and is equal, says Bottari, to a piece 
of Grecian workmanship; it has been engraved and published by Gori, in Condivi’s 
life of Michelagnolo; hut, as Bottari observes “ poco felicemente, e con gran pre- 
giudizio dell’ originale.” Vide Bottari, not. ut sup. 

48 Condivi, Vita di Michelagnolo, p. 5, &c. 

49 We learn from the narrative of Condivi, who relates these circumstances with 
insufferable minuteness, that when Lodovico, the father of Michelagnolo, encouraged 
by the kindness of Lorenzo, requested an office in the Dogana, or custom-house, in 
the place of Marco Pucci, Lorenzo, who intended to provide him with a much better 
establishment, replied, laying his hand on his shoulder, Tu sarai sempre povero. He 
gave him, however, the office for which he applied, which was worth eight scudi per 
month, poco pin o meno, says the accurate historian. Condiv. ut sup. 

50 Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 198. 




'atafnlque erected on the "burial <>t Miehaelagiioli 
































































































































































































LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


335 


1490.] 

sary to promote and reward superior talents. His leisure 
hours were passed in contemplating the intaglios, gems, 
and medals, of which Lorenzo had collected an astonishing 
number, whence he imbibed that taste for antiquarian re¬ 
searches which was of essential service to him in his more 
immediate studies, and which he retained to the close of 
his life. 

Whilst Michelagnolo was thus laying the sure foundation 
of his future fame, and giving daily proofs of his Associates 
rapid improvement, he formed an intimacy with wi * h poii- 
Politiano, who resided under the same roof, and t,an °* 
who soon became warmly attached to his interests. At his 
recommendation, Michelagnolo executed a basso-rilievo in 
marble, the subject of which is the battle of the Centaurs. 
This piece yet ornaments the dwelling of one of his descen¬ 
dants ; and, although not wholly finished, displays rather 
the hand of an experienced master than that of a pupil. 
But its highest commendation is, that it stood approved 
even in the riper judgment of the artist himself; who, 
although not indulgent to his own productions, did not 
hesitate, on seeing it some years afterwards, to express his 
regret that he had not entirely devoted himself to this 
branch of art. The death of Lorenzo too soon deprived 
him of his protector. Piero, the son of Lorenzo, continued 
indeed to shew to him the same marks of kindness which 
his father had uniformly done; but that prodigality, which 
so speedily dissipated his authority, his fortune, and his 
fame, was extended even to his amusements; and the 
talents of Michelagnolo, under the patronage of Piero, in¬ 
stead of impressing on brass or on marble the forms of 
immortality, were condemned to raise a statue of snow ! 51 
nor was this intercourse of long continuance; for Piero, in¬ 
stead of affording support to others, was soon obliged to 
seek, in foreign countries, a shelter for himself. 

The history of Michelagnolo forms that of all the arts 
which he professed. In him sculpture, painting, po ^ s a e n d tag b e y 
and architecture, seem to have been personified. Michelagnolo 
Born with talents superior to his predecessors, he d^ h 0 ra. pre ‘ 

51 Condiv. p. 8. This statue was a just emblem of the fortunes of its founder. 


336 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IX. 

had also a better fate. Ghiberti, Donatello, Verocchio, 
were all men of genius, but they lived during the gentile 
state of the art . 52 The light had now risen, and his 
young and ardent mind, conversant with the finest forms of 
antiquity, imbibed, as its genuine source, a relish for their 
excellence. With the specimens of ancient art the deposi¬ 
taries of ancient learning were unlocked to him, and of 
these also he made no inconsiderable use. As a poet he is 
entitled to rank high amongst his countrymen; and the 
triple wreaths of painting, sculpture, and architecture, with 
which his disciples decorated his tomb, might without exag¬ 
geration have been interwoven with a fourth . 53 

Of the sculptures of Michelagnolo, some yet remain in 
His scuip- an unfinished state, which strikingly display the com- 
tures - prehension of his ideas and the rapidity of his 
execution. Such are the bust of Brutus, and the statue of 
a female figure, in the gallery at Florence. In the latter 
the chisel has been handled with such boldness, as to in¬ 
duce a connoisseur of our own country to conjecture that it 
would be necessary, in the finishing, to restore the cavities . 54 
Perhaps a more involuntary homage was never paid to 
genius, than that which was extorted from the sculptor 
Falconet, who having presumed upon all occasions to cen¬ 
sure the style of Michelagnolo, without having had an oppor¬ 
tunity of inspecting any of his works, at length obtained a 
sight of two of his statues which were brought into France, 
by cardinal Richelieu. I have seen Michelagnolo , exclaimed 
the French artist; he is terrified 

The labours of the painter are necessarily transitory; for 
so are the materials that compose them. In a few years 
Michelagnolo will be known, like an ancient artist, only by 
his works in marble. Already it is difficult to determine, 

52 Opere di Mengs, vol. ii. p. 189. 

53 The poems of Michelagnolo were published by his great nephew Michelagnolo 
Buonarroti il Giovane, at Florence, in 1623, and are ranked with the Testi di Lingua 
of Italian literature. They were again reprinted at Florence in 1726, with the 
“ Lezzioni” of Benedetto Varchi, and Mario Guiducci, on some of his sonnets. 

54 Richardson, Description des Tabl. &c. vol. iii. p. 87. 

55 “ J’ai vu Michelange; II est effrayant.” (Falcon, ap. Tenh.) The pieces which 
occasioned this exclamation were two of the statues intended to compose a part of 
the monument of Julius II. 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


337 


1490 .] 

whether his reputation be enhanced or diminished by the 
sombre representations of his pencil in the Pauline and 
Sixtine chapels, or by the few specimens of his cabinet pic¬ 
tures, now rarely to be met with, and exhibiting only a 
shadow of their original excellence. But the chief merit of 
this great man is not to be sought for in the remains of his 
pencil, nor even in his sculptures, but in the general im¬ 
provement of the public taste which followed his astonishing 
productions. If his labours had perished with himself, the 
change which they effected in the opinions and the works 
of his contemporaries would still have entitled him to the 
first honours of the art. Those who from ignorance, or 
from envy, have endeavoured to depreciate his productions, 
have represented them as exceeding in their forms and 
attitudes the limits and the possibilities of nature, as a race 
of beings, the mere creatures of his own imagination; but 
such critics would do well to consider, whether the great 
reform to which we have alluded could have been effected 
by the most accurate representations of common life, and 
whether any thing short of that ideal excellence which he 
only knew to embody, could have accomplished so important 
a purpose. The genius of Michelagnolo was a leaven 
which was to operate on an immense and heterogeneous 
mass, the salt intended to give a relish to insipidity itself; 
it was therefore active, penetrating, energetic, so as not only 
effectually to resist the contagious effects of a depraved 
taste, but to communicate a portion of its spirit to all around. 

Of the contemporary artists of Michelagnolo, such only 
are entitled to high commendation as accompanied Raffaello 
his studies, or availed themselves of his example. d ’ Urbino * 
Among these appears the divine Raffaello; second to his 
great model in that grandeur of design which elevates the 
mind, but superior to him in that grace which interests the 
heart; and endowed, if not with vigour sufficient alone to 
effect a reform, yet with talents the best calculated to pro¬ 
mote its progress. It is well known that the works of this 
exquisite master form two distinct classes, those which he 
painted before, and those which he painted after he had 
caught from the new Prometheus a portion of the ethereal 


338 


THE LIFE OF 


[cm. IX. 

fire—those of the scholar of Perugino, and of the compe¬ 
titor of Michelagnolo. “ Happy age!” exclaims, with 
more than common animation, the historian of the painters, 
“ and happy artists, for so I may well denominate you, who 
have had the opportunity of purifying your eyes at so clear 
a fountain; who have found your difficulties removed, your 
crooked paths made straight by so wonderful an artist; 
know then, and honour the man who has enabled you to 
distinguish between truth and falsehood, and let your gra¬ 
titude be shewn in returning your thanks to heaven, and in 
imitating Michelagnolo in all things .” 56 

Genius is ever obnoxious to that criticism which medio- 
Micheiagnoio cr ity escapes; nor has this test been wanting to 
unjustly cen- the merits of Michelagnolo. The parasites of a 
vicious court and a corrupt age, have not hesitated 
to charge him with indecency, in introducing naked figures 
in his celebrated picture of the last judgment. This accu¬ 
sation was made even in his lifetime by one who called 
himself his friend, and who saw no impropriety in repre¬ 
senting it as proceeding from the obscene lips of Pietro 
Aretino . 57 It soon however became prevalent, that in the 
pontificate of Paul IV. it was in contemplation to destroy 
this astonishing picture, which was at last only preserved 
by the expedient of covering those parts which were sup¬ 
posed to be likely to excite in the minds of the depraved 
spectators ideas unsuitable to the solemnity of the place. 
The painter who undertook this office was ever afterwards 
distinguished by the name of II Braghettone. These op¬ 
probrious charges were renewed in the succeeding century, 
by a man of talents and celebrity, who united, like Michel- 


56 Vasari, Vita di Michelagnolo. 

57 In the dialogue of Lodovico Dolce on painting, entitled “ L’Aretino”—Aretino, 
who is supposed to speak the sentiments of the author, observes, “ Chi ardira di 
affermar, che stia bene, che nella chiesa di San Pietro, prencipe degli apostoli, in 
una Roma, ove concurre tutto il mondo, nella cappella del Pontefice, il quale, come 
ben dice il Bembo, in terra ne assembra Dio, si veggano dipinti tanti ignudi, che di- 
mostrano dishonestamente dritti e reversi; cosa nel vero, (favellando con ogni som- 
messione,) di quel santissimo luogo indegna.” Fabrini, the other colloquialist, justi¬ 
fies Michelagnolo, by alleging the example of Raffaello, who is said to have designed 
the lascivious prints engraved by Marcantonio Raimondi, under which the same 
Aretino wrote his infamous verses; but it is easy to see that such a justification is 
an aggravation of the charge. Dolce, Dialog, p. 236. Ed. Flor. 1735. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


339 


1490 .] 

agnolo, the character of a painter and a poet, without hav¬ 
ing one idea in common with him . 58 But what shall we 
say of an artist who could mingle with the contemplation 
of a subject so interesting to all mankind, which unites 
every thing terrible and sublime, and absorbs all other pas¬ 
sions, an idea that can only have a relation to the decorums 
of modern life, and to that factitious decency which, by 
affecting concealment, acknowledges a pruriency of imagina¬ 
tion to which true taste as well as true modesty is a stranger ? 

The favours of Lorenzo de’ Medici were not, however, 
exclusively bestowed. Although he well knew how other artists 
to appreciate and to reward extraordinary excel- favoured by 
lence, he was not inattentive to the just claims of 
those who made a proficiency in any branch of the arts. 
Where the indication of talents appeared, he was solicitous 
to call them into action, to accelerate their progress, and to 
repay their success. “It is highly deserving of notice/’ 
says Vasari, “ that all those who studied in the gardens of 
the Medici, and w T ere favoured by Lorenzo, became most 
excellent artists, which can only be attributed to the ex¬ 
quisite judgment of this great patron of their studies, who. 
could not only distinguish men of genius, but had both the 
will and the power to reward them .” 59 By his kindness 
the eminent sculptor Rustici was placed under the G ianfrances- 
care of Andrea Verocchio, where he formed an coRustici - 
intimacy with the celebrated Lionardo da Vinci; but 
although he availed himself of the friendship and the 
instructions of this wonderful man, he acknowledged 
Lorenzo as the parent of his studies. Francesco Francesco 
Granacci, the fellow-student of Michelagnolo, par- GranaccL 
took also of the favour of Lorenzo, and was occasionally em¬ 
ployed by him in preparing the splendid pageants with 
which he frequently amused the citizens of Florence; in 
the decoration of which Granacci displayed uncommon 
taste . 60 The reputation acquired by the pupils of S. Marco 

58 Salvator Rosa, in his satire entitled “ La Pittura,” relating instances of the ar¬ 
rogance and pride of his predecessors, introduces the well-known story of the critic 
Biagio, who having censured the famous picture of the last judgment, was, in re¬ 
turn, represented by Michelagnolo in a group of the damned. 

9 Vasari, Vita del Rustici. 60 Vasari, Vita di Fr. Granac. 


340 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IX. 

soon extended beyond the limits of Italy,. At the request 
of the king of Portugal, Lorenzo sent into that country 

Andrea Andrea Contucci, where he left various monuments 
contucci. 0 f hi s talents in sculpture and architecture . 61 The 
encouragement afforded by him to the professors of every 
branch of the arts, may be estimated in some degree by 
the numerous pieces executed at his expense by the first 
masters of the time, accounts of which are occasionally 
dispersed through the voluminous work of Vasari. Like 
his ancestor Cosmo, Lorenzo often forgot the superiority of 
the patron in the familiarity of the friend, and not only ex¬ 
cused but delighted in the capriciousness which frequently 
distinguishes men of talents. In this number was Niccolo 
Grosso, a Florentine citizen, who wrought ornaments in 
iron with extraordinary skill. Conscious of his merits, 
Niccolo resolved to labour only for those who paid him 
ready money, referring his employers to the sign suspended 
at his door, which represented books of account destroyed 
in the flames. Lorenzo, desirous of presenting to some of 
his powerful friends abroad a specimen of Florentine inge¬ 
nuity, called upon Niccolo to engage him to execute for him 
a piece of his workmanship; but the surly artisan, who was 
busy at his anvil, instead of acknowledging the honour in¬ 
tended him, bluntly told Lorenzo, that he had other cus¬ 
tomers who, having first applied, must be first served. The 
invincible pertinacity of Niccolo, in refusing to work till he 
had received his usual deposit, occasioned Lorenzo to give 
him the name of II Coparra , 62 by which he was ever after¬ 
wards genenerally known . 63 

The study of architecture, as revived by Brunelleschi, re- 
Lorenzo en- ceived additional support from the encouragement 
™udy 8 of ar- afforded by Lorenzo de’ Medici, who, to the muni- 
chitecture. ffoence of his grandfather, superadded a knowledge 
of this science equal to that of a practical artist. At his in¬ 
stance, and often at his individual expense, the city of Flo¬ 
rence was ornamented with a profusion of elegant buildings, 
as well for private residence as public purposes. Convinced 

61 Vasar. Vita di Contucci. 62 From Arrha, Arrhabo, a pledge, or earnest. 

63 Vasari, Vita di Simone detto il Cronica. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


341 


1490 .] 

that the art was founded on fixed and determined prin¬ 
ciples, which were only to be discovered in the labours of 
the ancients, he justly reprobated those professors who, neg¬ 
lecting the rules of Vitruvius, followed only the variable 
suggestions of their own fancy. Nor was he less severe on 
those who, without any previous knowledge of the art, con¬ 
ceived themselves equal to the task of conducting a building 
on an extensive scale, and in the erection of their dwellings, 
chose to become their own architects. “ Such people/' said 
Lorenzo, “ buy repentance at too dear a rate . 64 Of this 
description was his relation Francesco de’ Medici, who 
having erected a large house at Maiano, and made several 
alterations in its progress, complained to Lorenzo of the 
great expense with which it had been attended: “ That is 
not to be wondered at," replied Lorenzo, “ when instead of 
erecting your building from a model, you draw your model 
from your building ." 65 His superior judgment in works 
of this kind was acknowledged on many occasions. Ferdi¬ 
nand, king of Naples, intending to build a palace, conceived 
no one more competent to direct him in the choice of a 
plan than Lorenzo. His assistance was also sought for 
on a similar occasion by the duke of Milan; and Filippo 
Strozzi, in the erection of a mansion, which in grandeur of 
design and richness of execution is not inferior to a royal 
residence, availed himself greatly of his advice and direc¬ 
tions . 66 It does not however appear, that Lorenzo on any 
occasion thought proper to dispense with the aid of those 
who had made this art their more immediate study. Having 
formed the intention of erecting his palace at Poggio-Cajano, 
he obtained designs from several of the best architects of 
the time, and amongst the rest from Giuliano, the G iuihmo da 
son of Paolo Giamberto, whose model was pre- SanGall °- 
ferred by Lorenzo, and under whose directions the building 
was carried on; but in the construction of the picturesque 
and singular flight of steps, which communicated to every 
part with such convenience that a person might ascend or 

64 “ Illos vel maxime reprehendere solebat quicumque in diem temere sedificarent, 
eos dicens caro admodum emerepcenitentiam.” Valor, in Vita, p. 63. 65 Valor, ut supra. 

66 Valor, in Vita, p. 63. For a particular account of this splendid residence, v. 
Vasari, Vita di Simone detto il Cronica. 


342 


THE LIFE OF 


[di. IX. 

descend even on horseback, Lorenzo made use of a design 
of Stefano d’Ugolino, a painter of Siena, who died about 
the year 1350. 67 Lorenzo was desirous that the ceiling of 
the great hall should be formed by a single arch, but was 
apprehensive that it would not be practicable on account of 
its extent. Giuliano was at that time erecting a residence 
for himself in Florence, where he took an opportunity of 
executing one in the manner suggested by Lorenzo, and 
succeeded so effectually as to remove his doubts on this head. 
The ceiling at Poggio-Cajano was accordingly completed, 
and is acknowledged to be the largest vaulted roof of modern 
workmanship that had then been seen. 68 The talents of 
this artist induced Lorenzo to recommend him to Ferdinand 
king of Naples, to whom he presented, on the part of 
Lorenzo, the model of an intended palace. His reception 
was highly honourable. On his departure Ferdinand sup¬ 
plied him with horses, apparel, and other valuable articles, 
amongst which was a silver cup containing several hundred 
ducats. Giuliano, whilst he declined accepting it, expressed 
a desire that the king would gratify him with some speci¬ 
mens of ancient art, from his extensive collection, which 
might be a proof of his approbation. Ferdinand accord¬ 
ingly presented him with a bust of the emperor Adrian, a 
statue of a female figure larger than life, and a sleeping 
Cupid; all of which Giuliano immediately sent to Lorenzo, 
who was no less pleased with the liberality of the artist, 
than with the acquisition of so valuable a treasure. 69 At 
the request of the celebrated Mariano Genazano, Lorenzo 
had promised to erect, without the gate of San Gallo at 
Florence, a monastery capable of containing one hundred 
monks. On the return of Giuliano to Florence, he engaged 
him in this work, whence he obtained the name of San 

67 Vasar. Vita di Giuliano da San Gallo, vol. ii. p. 78. 

68 Giuliano had before been employed by Lorenzo in fortifying the town of 

Castellana, when that place was attacked by the duke of Calabria, in which he 
rendered essential services to his patron. The Florentines were at that time very 
defective in the use of their artillery, which they scarcely ventured to approach, 
and which frequently occasioned fatal accidents to those who directed it: hut the 
ingenuity of the young architect remedied this defect; in consequence of which the 
army of the duke was so severely cannonaded as to be obliged to raise the siege. 
Vasar. ut supra. ’ 69 Vasar. Vita di Giuliano da San Gallo. 



LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


343 


1490.] 

Gallo , by which he was always afterwards distinguished . 70 
Whilst this building was carrying forwards, Giuliano was 
also employed by Lorenzo in designing and erecting the 
extensive fortifications of Poggio Imperiale, preparatory to 
the founding a city on that spot, as was his intention . 71 To 
this artist, who arrived at great eminence in the ensuing 
century, and to his brother Antonio, architecture is indebted 
for the completion of the Tuscan order, as now established, 
and for considerable improvements in the Doric. 

Besides the many magnificent works begun under the 
immediate directions of Lorenzo, he sedulously attended to 
the completion of such buildings as had been left imperfect 
by his ancestors. On the church of S. Lorenzo, the build¬ 
ing of which was begun by his great-grandfather Giovanni, 
and continued by his grandfather Cosmo, he expended a 
large sum. At the request of Matteo Bosso, he also com¬ 
pleted the monastery begun by Brunelleschi at Fiesole , 72 at 
the same time expressing his regret that he should have 
rendered it necessary to solicit him to do that which he 
conceived to be an indispensable duty . 73 

Amongst the various kinds of picturesque representation 
practised by the Greeks and Romans, and trans- Attempts to 
mitted by them to aftertimes, is that of Mosaic ; 74 p^cuce 1 of 
a mode of execution which, in its durability of Mosaic - 
form and permanency of colour, possesses distinguished ad- 

70 Giuliano remonstrated with Lorenzo on this alteration.—“ By your calling me 
San Gallo” said he, “ I shall lose my name, and, instead of becoming respectable by 
the antiquity of my family, I shall have to found it anew.”—“ Surely,” said Lorenzo, 
“ it is more honourable to be the founder of a new family by your own talents, than 
to rest your reputation on the merits of others.” Vasar. ut supra. 

71 Vasar. ut supra. 

72 The letter of Bosso, which was addressed to Lorenzo in the height of his pros¬ 

perity, and touches upon many circumstances of his life and character, is given in 
the “ Recuperationes Fesulanae.” 73 Fabr. in Vita, vol. i. p. 148. 

74 The lithostrata, or tesselated pavements of the Romans, being worked in a re¬ 
gular and mechanical manner, were called opus musivum, opera quae ad amussim facta 
sunt : hence the Italian Musaico, from which is derived our appellation of Mosaic ; 
but like most of our other terms of art through the channel of the French, Mosaique. 

When, instead of ornamenting their floors, the Romans began to decorate the 
walls of their apartments, the work was still characterized by the same term, as 
appears from the following passage, communicated to me by Dr. Parr: “ Musiva 
quidem (ut docuit Salmasius, ad historiam Augustam) proprie de hoc opere in pa- 
rietibus et cameris dicebantur, ut lithostrata et tesseUata de pavimentis; sed quia 
eadem ars erat, ipsomet fatente, nos, ut et alii solent auctores, promiscue sumere non 
dubitavimus. Musiva , Musea , et Musia vocabantur. Spartianus in vita Pescennii 


344 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IX. 

vantages, being unaffected by drought or moisture, heat or 
cold, and perishing only with the building to which it has 
been originally attached. This art, during the middle ages, 
had experienced the same vicissitudes as attended all those 
with which it is so nearly connected . 75 Some attempts 
had, however, been made to restore it by Andrea Tafi, 
the contemporary of Giotto; and even Giotto himself had 
cultivated it, not without success, although the celebrated 
picture over the great door of St. Peter’s at Rome, called 
the Navicella di Giotto , is said to be a more modern work, 
copied from a former one of that artist . 76 Lorenzo was 
desirous of introducing this mode of execution into more 
general practice. On expressing to Graffione, a Florentine 
painter, his intention of ornamenting with work of this 
kind the vault of a large cupola, the painter ventured to 
observe to him that he had not artists equal to the task: 
“We have money enough to make them,” replied Lorenzo; 
and although Graffione still continued incredulous , 77 Lorenzo 
soon afterwards met with a person who suited his purpose 
in the painter Gherardo, who had generally applied him¬ 
self to works in miniature. The specimen produced by 
Gherardo for the inspection of Lorenzo, was a head of 
S. Zenobio, with which he was so well pleased, that he re¬ 
solved to enlarge the chapel of that saint at Florence, in 

Nigri, hunc antequam ad imperium pervenire, in Commodianis hortis, in porticu 
curva, picturn de Musivo fuisse ait, inter Commodi amicissimos, sacra Isidis feren- 
tem. Trebellius Pollio, in Tetrico juniore: Tetricorum domus hodieque extat in monte 
Ccelio, inter duos Lucos, contra Isium Metallinum pulcherrima, in qua Aurelianus 
pictus est utrique Tetrico preetextam tribuens senatoriam dignitatem accipiens ab his 
sceptrum: picta omnia de Museo. Anastatius Bibliothecarius passim basilicarum 
Romae meminit Musivo decoratum in Leone IV. Apsidemque ejus ex Musivo, aureo 
superinducto colore glorifice decoravit. Apsides graecis, idem ac latinis Fomices.” 
Pitisci Lexicon, vol. ii. p. 242. 

75 There is, however, reason to believe, that the practice of Mosaic, although it 
had degenerated, had never been wholly intermitted. The church of S. Paolo fuori 
delle Mure at Rome is full of Mosaics of the lower empire. There are also many in 
buildings of the Exarchate at Ravenna. The church of St. Mark at Venice, built 
about the year 1100, has also many specimens, probably the work of Greek artists 
from Constantinople. The tombs of our kings Edward the Confessor and Henry III. 
in Westminster Abbey, the work, as Mr. Walpole has almost demonstrated, of Pietro 
Cavalini, certainly of a Petrus Romanus civis, bring us down to Giotto’s time with 
scarcely an interval. For these remarks on the above passage I am indebted to Sir 
H. Englefield. 76 Tenh. Mem. Geneal. livr. vii. p. 131. 

77 Graffione with that familiarity which the artists appear to have used towards 
Lorenzo, replied, “ Eh Lorenzo, i danari non fanni i maestri, ma i maestri fanno i 
danari." 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


345 


1490 .] 

order to give the artist an opportunity of exhibiting his 
talents in a wider field. With Gherardo he associated 
Domenico Ghirlandajo, as a more complete master of de¬ 
sign, and the work was commenced with great spirit. Vasari 
assures us, that if death had not interposed, there was reason 
to believe, from the part that was executed, that these artists 
would have performed wonderful things . 78 

But if the attempts made by Lorenzo to restore the 
practice of Mosaic were thus in a great degree frus- Invention of 
{rated, a discovery was made about the same period engraving on 
which proved an ample substitute for it, and which copper * 
has given to the works of the painter that permanency 
which even the durability of Mosaic might not perhaps have 
supplied. This was the art of transferring to paper im¬ 
pressions from engravings on copper, or other metals ; an 
invention which has tended more than any other circum¬ 
stance to diffuse throughout Europe a just and general taste 
for the arts. 

This discovery is attributed by the Italians to Maso, or 
Tomaso Einiguerra, a goldsmith of Florence, who being 
accustomed to engrave on different metals, for the purpose 
of inlaying them, occasionally tried the effects of his work 
by taking off impressions, first on sulphur, and afterwards 
on paper, by means of a roller, in such a manner that the 
figures seemed to have been traced with a pen. It does not 
appear that Finiguerra ever applied this invention to any 
other purpose than that of ascertaining the progress of his 
work; nor have the researches of the most diligent in¬ 
quirers discovered a single print that can with any degree 
of probability be attributed to him; but Baccio Baldini, 
another goldsmith, conceiving that this discovery might be 
applied to more important purposes, began to engrave on 


78 By whose death the further progress of this work was interrupted, may be 
doubted. The words of Vasari are, “ Per lo che Gherardo, assotigliando l’ingegno, 
harebbe fatto con Domenico mirabilissime cose, se la morte non vi si fusse interposta: 
come si puo giudicare dal principio della detta capella, che rimase imperfetta. ,, But, 
by a subsequent passage in the life of Ghirlandajo, it seems it was the death 

of Lorenzo that prevented the completion of the work. “-come, per 

la morte delpredetto Magnifico Lorenzo, rimase imperfettain Fiorenza la Capella di 
S. Zanobi, comminciata a lavorare di Musaico da Domenico in compagnia di Gherardo 
miniatore.” 



346 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. IX. 

metals, solely with a view of transmitting impressions to 
paper. Possessing, however, no great skill in design, he 
prevailed on Sandro Botticello to furnish him with draw¬ 
ings suitable for his purpose. The concurrence of Antonio 
Pollajuoli, and Andrea Mantegna, carried the art to greater 
perfection. Of the works of the last-mentioned master 
many specimens yet remain, which do credit to his talents. 
The beginning of the ensuing century produced a much 
superior artist in Marcantonio Raimondi, by whose industry 
the numerous productions of Raffaello, the transcripts of 
his rich and creative mind, were committed to paper with 
an accuracy which he himself approved, and may serve as 
a standard to mark in future times the progress or the de¬ 
cline of the arts . 79 


79 The credit of having given rise to this elegant and useful art has been contended 
for by different countries, and their various pretensions have been weighed and con¬ 
sidered by many authors. It is, however, generally agreed, that it begun with the 
goldsmiths, and was afterwards adopted by the painters. The union of these two 
professions has thus produced a third, which has risen to considerable importance. 
The Germans, who have disputed with the Italians the honour of the invention with 
the greatest degree of plausibility, have not, in point of fact controverted the narra¬ 
tive given by the Italians of the rise of the art, nor brought forwards any account of 
their own, but have simply endeavoured to shew that it was practised in Germany at 
an earlier period. Mr. Heineken asserts, that the earliest prints engraved in Italy, 
that bear a date, are the maps to the edition of Ptolemy, printed at Rome in 1478 ; 
the earliest picturesque representations, those prefixed to some of the cantos of 
Dante in 1482 ; whilst he adduces instances of German execution that bear the date 
of 1466, by comparing the manner of which with other pieces, apparently of earlier 
workmanship, he conjectures that the art had its rise in Germany about the year 
1440. (Idee Generate, p. 232.) Non nostrum tantas componere lites. I shall only 
observe, that little dependence is to be placed on conjectures from prints without a 
date, particularly those of German workmanship, as the artists of that country con¬ 
tinued to produce them in the most rude and Gothic style, both as to design and 
execution, long after the beginning of the sixteenth century, when Albert Durer and 
Luca van Leyden had set them a better example. On the other hand, impartiality 
obliges me to remark, that Tiraboschi, who strenuously claims for his countrymen 
the merit of the discovery, has not discussed this subject with his usual accuracy. 
First, he is mistaken in asserting that Baldinucci fixes the commencement of the art 
in the beginning of the fifteenth century. (Storia della Lett. Ital. vol. ii. p. 2. p. 
399.) Baldinucci only says, in general, that the art had its beginning in the fifteenth 
century. “ Quest’ arte ebbe suo principio nel secolo del 1400.” Secondly, on tbe 
authority of a document produced by Manni, he supposes that Tomaso Finiguerra, 
the inventor of the art, died prior to the year 1424 ; but both Vasari and Baldinucci 
inform us, that the Finiguerra in question was contemporary with Pollajuolo, who 
was only born in 1426. It is singular that this judicious author did not reflect how 
slight that evidence must be which rests merely on similarity of name, particularly 
in Florence, where, for the sake of distinction, it was often necessary to resort to 
the patronymics for several generations. Vide Vasari, Vite de’ Pittori, passim. Bal¬ 
dinucci, Comminciamento e progresso dell’ Arte dell’ Intagliare in Rame. Fir. 1686. 
Heineken, Idee generate d’une Collection complette d’Estampes, &c. 


LORENZO De’ MEDICI. 


347 


1490 .] 

Whilst the art of transferring to paper impressions from 
copper was thus first practised, that of engraving Revival of 
on gems and stones was again successfully revived, g”™ ving a nd 
The predilection of Lorenzo de J Medici for the stones - 
beautiful specimens of skill which the ancients have left in 
materials of this nature has frequently been noticed . 80 Of 
those which once formed a part of his immense collection, 
some occasionally occur that seem to have been the objects 
of his more particular admiration, and bear upon some con¬ 
spicuous part the name of their former proprietor, thus ex¬ 
pressed, layr. med. 81 Nor is it improbable that Michel- 
agnolo, who passed among these treasures a considerable 
portion of his time, was indebted to the hberality of Lorenzo 
for the beautiful intaglio which he is supposed to have worn 
as his seal. 

The protection and encouragement afforded by Lorenzo 
to every other branch of art was not withheld from this his 
favourite department. From the early part of the fifteenth 
century, some specimens of the astonishing proficiency of 
the ancients in works of this nature had occasionally been 
discovered; and, as the public taste improved, they were 
sought for with avidity, and only to be purchased at consi¬ 
derable prices. In the pontificate of Martin Y. and again 

80 The collection of antiques formed by Lorenzo is thus celebrated by a contem¬ 
porary author: 

“ Caelatum argento, vel fulvo quidquid in auro est 
iEdibus hoc, Laurens, vidimus esse tuis, 

Praxitelis, Phoenicis, Aristonis, atque Myronis 
Fingere tarn doctae quod potuere manus, 

Cunachus, aut Mentor, Pythias, vel uterque Polycles 
Lisippus quidquid, Callimachusque dedit. 

Quae collegisti miro virtutis amore 

Magnanimum reddunt nomen ubique tuum. 

Artificum monumenta foves, referuntur in auro 
Argento, tabulis, et lapide ora Deum.” 

F. Kamerlini, ap. Band. Kat. Bibl. Laur. vol. iii. p. 545. 

81 These letters appear on a cameo in onyx of different colours, representing the 
entry of Noah and his family into the ark, of which an engraving is given by Gori in 
his edition of the life of Michelagnolo by Condivi. Among the gems or cameos of 
this description, of which I have met with impressions, or gessi, are those of Diomed 
with the palladium, a large oval cameo, in which the letters laur. med. are en¬ 
graved on the side of the rock or stone on which he sits—A centaur, with the letters 
engraved on the exergue—Daedalus fixing on the wings of Icarus: the inscription is 
on the pedestal upon which Icarus stands, extending his wings over the upper part 
of the piece; and lastly, the celebrated gem representing Apollo and Marsyas, of 
which a particular account is given by Mr. Tenliove. 



348 THE LIFE OF [CH. IX. 

in that of Paul II. some attempts had been made to rival, 
or at least to imitate, these productions; but the first artist 
whose name stands recorded in modern times is Giovanni 
delle Corniuole, so called from his having generally exercised 
his skill upon the stone called a Cornelian. The museum of 
Lorenzo de’ Medici was the school in which he studied. The 
proficiency which he made corresponded to the advantages 
he possessed, and answered the purposes which his liberal 
patron had in view. The numerous pieces of his workman¬ 
ship in various sizes, and on various materials, were the ad¬ 
miration of all Italy. One of his most celebrated produc¬ 
tions was the portrait of Savonarola, who was then in the 
meridian of his popularity at Plorence. Giovanni imme¬ 
diately met with a formidable competitor in a Milanese, 
who also lost the name of his family in that of his art, and 
was called Domenico de’ Camei. The likeness of Lodovico 
Sforza, engraved by Domenico in a large onyx, was consi¬ 
dered as the most extraordinary specimen of modern skill. 
By these masters and their scholars, this elegant but unob¬ 
trusive branch of the fine arts kept pace with its more os¬ 
tentatious competitors; and even in the most flourishing 
period of their elevation, under the pontificate of Leo X. 
the eye that had contemplated the divine sculptures of 
Michelagnolo, or had dwelt with delight on the paintings 
of Raffaello or of Titian, might have turned with pleasure to 
the labours of Valerio Vicentino, or of Giovanni Bolognese, 
which compressed into the narrowest bounds, the accurate 
representations of beauty, strength, or grace, and gave to 
the most inestimable productions of nature the highest per¬ 
fection of art. 



Portrait of Leo X,Ly Raphael. 

CHAPTER X. 

1492. 

Lorenzo de' Medici intends to retire from public life—Is taken sick and removes to 
Careggi—His conduct in his last illness—Interview with Pico and Politiano — 
Savonarola visits him—Death of Lorenzo—His character—Review of his conduct 
as a statesman—Attachment of the Florentines to him—Circumstances attending 
his death—Testimonies of respect to his memory—Death of Innocent VIII. and 
accession of Alexander VI.—Irruption of the French into Italy—Expulsion of the 
Medici from Florence—Death of Ermolao Barbaro—Of Pico of Mirandula—Of 
Agnolo Politiano—Absurd accounts respecting the death of Politiano—His Monody 
on Lorenzo—Politiano celebrated by Cardinal Bembo—Authentic account of his 
death—Disturbances excited by Savonarola—Adherents of the Medici decapitated 
—Disgrace and execution of Savonarola—Death of Piero de’ Medici—His charac¬ 
ter—Sonnet of Piero de’ Medici—Cardinal Giovanni de’ Medici—Restoration of 
the family to Florence—Elevation of Leo X.—Leo promotes his relations—Restores 
his dominions to peace—Rise of the Reformation—Age of Leo X.—The Lauren- 
tian Library restored—Giuliano de' Medici duke of Nemours—Ippolito de' Medici 
—Lorenzo de’ Medici duke of Urbino—Alessandro de’ Medici—Descendants of 
Lorenzo de’ Medici the brother of Cosmo—Giovanni de’ Medici—Lorenzo de* 
Medici—Alessandro assumes the sovereignty of Florence—Is assassinated by 
Lorenzino—Motives and consequences of the attempt—Cosmo de' Medici first grand 
duke—Death of Filippo Strozzi and final extinction of the republic — Conclusion. 


That love of leisure which is inseparable from a mind con¬ 
scious of its own resources, and the consideration Lorenzo in- 
of his declining state of health, were probably the J^ ds t0 (r T 0 * 
motives that induced Lorenzo de’ Medici to aim at P ublic life - 
introducing his two elder sons into public life at so early 
and almost premature an age. The infirmities under which 
he laboured not only disqualified him at times from attend¬ 
ing with his accustomed vigilance to the affairs of the re¬ 
public, but rendered it also necessary for him often to absent 






350 THE LIFE OF [CH. X. 

himself from Florence, and to pass some portion of his time 
at the warm baths in various parts of Italy, of which those 
of Siena and Porrettana afforded him the most effectual 
relief. At those seasons which were not embittered by sick¬ 
ness, he appears to have flattered himself with the expecta¬ 
tion of enjoying the reward of his public labours, and par¬ 
taking of the general happiness which he had so essentially 
contributed to promote, in a peaceful and dignified retire¬ 
ment, enlivened by social amusements, by philosophic stu¬ 
dies, and literary pursuits. These expectations were built 
upon the most substantial foundation, the consciousness that 
he had discharged his more immediate duties and engage¬ 
ments ; but his feelings on this occasion are best expressed 
in his own words. 1 “ What,” says he, “ can be more 
desirable to a well-regulated mind than the enjoyment of 
leisure with dignity ? This is what all good men wish to 
obtain, but which great men alone accomplish. In the 
midst of public affairs we may indeed be allowed to look 
forwards to a day of rest; but no rest should totally seclude 
us from an attention to the concerns of our country. I 
cannot deny that the path which it has been my lot to tread 
has been arduous and rugged, full of dangers, and beset 
with treachery; but I console myself in having contributed 
to the welfare of my country, the prosperity of which may 
now rival that of any other state however flourishing. Nor 
have I been inattentive to the interests and advancement of 
my own family, having always proposed to my imitation the 
example of my grandfather Cosmo, who watched over his 
public and private concerns with equal vigilance. Having 
now obtained the object of my cares, I trust I may be 
allowed to enjoy the sweets of leisure, to share the reputa¬ 
tion of my fellow-citizens, and to exult in the glory of my 
native place.” His intentions were more explicitly made 
known to his faithful companion Politiano, who relates, that 
sitting with him in his chamber, a short time before his 
death, and conversing on subjects of letters and philosophy, 
he then told him that he meant to withdraw himself as much 
as possible from the tumult of the city, and to devote the 

1 Ap. Fabr. in Vita Laur. vol. i. p. 196. 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


351 


1492.] 

remainder of his days to the society of his learned friends; 
at the same time expressing his confidence in the abilities of 
his son Piero, on whom it was his intention that the con¬ 
duct of the affairs of the republic should principally devolve. 2 

This prospect of relaxation and happiness he was not, 
however, destined to realize. Early in the year Lorenzo is 
1492, the complaint under which he laboured ^removes 
attacked him with additional violence; and whilst to Care ^ i - 
the attention of his physicians was employed in administer¬ 
ing relief, he contracted a slow fever, which escaped their 
observation, or eluded their skill, until it was too late effec¬ 
tually to oppose its progress. The last illness of Lorenzo 
de’ Medici, like that of most other great men, is represented as 
being extraordinary in its nature. Politiano describes his dis¬ 
order as a fever, of all others the most insidious, proceeding 
by insensible degrees, not like other fevers, by the veins or 
arteries, but attacking the limbs, the intestines, the nerves, 
and destroying the very principle of life. On the first 
approach of this dangerous complaint he had removed from 
Florence to his house at Careggi, where his moments were 
enlivened by the society of his friends and the respectful 
attentions of his fellow-citizens. For medical advice his 
chief reliance was upon the celebrated Pier Leoni of Spoleto, 
whom he had frequently consulted on the state of his health; 
but, as the disorder increased, further assistance was sought 
for, and Lazaro da Ticino, another physician, arrived at 
Careggi. It seems to have been the opinion of Politiano, 
that the advice of Lazaro was too late resorted to; but if we 
may judge from the nature of the medicines employed by 
him, he rather accelerated than averted the fatal moment. 
The mixture of amalgamated pearls and jewels, with the 
most expensive potions, might indeed serve to astonish the 
attendants and to screen the ignorance of the physician, but 
were not likely to be attended with any beneficial effect on 
the patient. Whether it was in consequence of this treat¬ 
ment, or from the nature of the disorder itself, a sudden and 

2 Polit. Ep. lib. iv. ep. 2. But Guicciardini informs us that Lorenzo was well aware 
of the real chatacter of his son : “ e si era spesso lamentato, con li amici piu intimi, 
che l’imprudenza ed arroganza del figliuolo, partorirebbe la rovina della sua casa.” 
(Guicciardini, lib. i.) 


352 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

unexpected alteration soon took place; and whilst his friends 
relied with confidence on the exertions made in his behalf, 
he sunk at once into such a state of debility as totally pre¬ 
cluded all hopes of his recovery, and left him only the care 
of preparing to meet his doom in a manner consistent with 
the eminence of his character and the general tenor of his 
life. 

Notwithstanding the diversity of occupations which had 
ms conduct successively engaged his attention, and the levity, 
in his last not to say licentiousness, of some of his writings, 
the mind of Lorenzo had always been deeply sus¬ 
ceptible of religious impressions. This appears not only 
from his attention to the establishment and reform of mo¬ 
nastic houses , 3 but from his laudi , or hymns, many of which 
breathe a spirit of devotion nearly bordering on enthusiasm. 
During his last sickness, this feature of his character became 
more prominent; nor did he judge it expedient, or perhaps 
think it excusable, to separate the essential from the cere¬ 
monial part of religion. Having therefore performed the 
offices of the church with peculiar fervor, and adjusted with 
sincerity and decorum his spiritual concerns, he requested a 
private interview with his son Piero, with whom he held a 
long and interesting conversation on the state of the republic, 
the situation of his family, and the conduct which it would 
be expedient for Piero to pursue. Of the precepts which 
he thought it necessary to inculcate on his successor, we 
derive some information from Politiano, which was probably 
obtained from the relation of his pupil . 4 “ I doubt not,” 
said Lorenzo, “that you will hereafter possess the same 
weight and authority in the state which I have hitherto en- 

3 Of this several instances are given by his historian Valori, p. 58, &c. 

4 The circumstances preceding and attending the death of Lorenzo are minutely 
related by Politiano, in a letter to Jacopo Antiquario, (lib. iv, ep. 2.) upon the autho¬ 
rity of which I have principally relied, as will be seen, without troubling the reader 
with continual references, by adverting to the letter in the Appendix, No. XLI. 
Fabroni has incorporated this letter in the body of his work, as both the narrative 
and the evidence of the facts it relates; but as Politiano has mingled with much au¬ 
thentic information many instances of that superstition which infested the age, and 
has, perhaps, shewn too unlimited a partiality to the family of his patrons, I have 
thought it incumbent on me to separate, according to the best of my judgment, the 
documents of history from the dreams of the nursery, and the representations of 
truth from the encomiums of the friend, leaving my reader to consult the original, 
and to adopt as much more of the account as he may think fit. 


LORENZO BE MEDICI. 


353 


1492.] 

joyed; but as the republic, although it form but one body, 
has many heads, you must not expect that it will be possible 
for you, on all occasions, so to conduct yourself as to obtain 
the approbation of every individual^ Remember, therefore, 
in every situation to pursue that course of conduct which 
strict integrity prescribes, and to consult the interests of the 
whole community, rather than the gratification of a part.” 
These admonitions, if attended to, might have preserved 
Piero from the ruin which the neglect of them soon brought 
down, and may yet serve as a lesson to those whose autho¬ 
rity rests, as all authority must finally rest, on public opi¬ 
nion. The dutiful and patient attendance of Piero on his 
father during his sickness was, however, a pledge to Lorenzo 
that his last instructions would not be forgotten; and, by 
confirming the favourable sentiments which he appears to 
have entertained of the talents and the disposition of his 
son, served at least to alleviate the anxiety which he must 
have felt on resigning, thus prematurely, the direction of 
such a vast and rapid machine into young and inexperienced 
hands. 

At this interesting period, when the mind of Lorenzo, 
relieved from the weight of its important concerns, interview be- 
became more sensibly alive to the emotions of ^pL^nd 
friendship, Politiano entered his chamber. Lorenzo Politiano - 
no sooner heard his voice than he called on him to approach, 
and raising his languid arms, clasped the hands of Politiano 
in his own, at the same time steadfastly regarding him with 
a placid, and even a cheerful countenance. Deeply affected 
at this silent but unequivocal proof of esteem, Politiano could 
not suppress his feelings, but, turning his head aside, attempt¬ 
ed as much as possible to conceal his sobs and his tears. 
Perceiving his agitation, Lorenzo still continued to grasp his 
hand, as if intending to speak to him when his passion had 
subsided ; but finding him unable to resist its impulse, he 
slowly, and as it were unintentionally, relaxed his hold, and 
Politiano, hastening into an inner apartment, flung himself 
on a bed, and gave way to his grief. Having at length com¬ 
posed himself, he returned into the chamber, when Lorenzo 

23 


354 


THE LTFE OF 


[CH. X. 


“f 


again called to him, and inquired with great kindness why Pico 
of Mirandula had not once paid him a visit during his sick¬ 
ness. Politiano apologized for his friend, by assuring Lorenzo 
that he had only been deterred by the apprehension that his 
presence might be troublesome. “ On the contrary/’ replied 
Lorenzo, “ if his journey from the city be not troublesome 
to him, I shall rejoice to see him before I take my final leave 
of you.” Pico accordingly came, and seated himself at the 
side of Lorenzo, whilst Politiano, reclining on the bed, near 
the knees of his revered benefactor, as if to prevent any ex¬ 
traordinary exertion of his declining voice, prepared for the 
last time to share in the pleasures of his conversation. After 
excusing himself to Pico for the task he had imposed upon 
him, Lorenzo expressed his esteem for him in the most affec¬ 
tionate terms, professing that lie should meet his death with 
more cheerfulness after this last intervieyr. He then changed 
the subject to more familiar and lively topics; and it was 
on this occasion that he expressed, not without some degree 
of jocularity, his wishes that he could have obtained a re¬ 
prieve, until he could have completed the library destined to 
the use of his auditors. 

This interview was scarcely terminated, when a visitor of 
_ , a very different character arrived. This was the 

visits Loren- haughty and enthusiastic Savonarola, who probably 
thought, that in the last moments of agitation and 
of suffering, he might be enabled to collect materials for his 
factious purposes. With apparent charity and kindness, 
the priest exhorted Lorenzo to remain firm in the catholic 
faith; to which Lorenzo professed his strict adherence. He 
then required an avowal of his intention, in case of his 
recovery, to live a virtuous and well-regulated life; to this 
he also signified his sincere assent. Lastly, he reminded 
him, that, if needful, he ought to bear his death with for¬ 
titude. “ With cheerfulness,” replied Lorenzo, “if such be 
the will of God.” On his quitting the room, Lorenzo 
called him back, and, as an unequivocal mark that he har¬ 
boured in his bosom no resentment against him for the 
injuries which he had received, requested the priest would 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI, 


355 


1492 .] 

bestow upon him his benediction; with which he instantly 
complied, Lorenzo making the usual responses with a firm 
and collected voice . 5 

No species of reputation is so cheaply acquired as that 
derived from death-bed fortitude. When it is Dea th of 

fruitless to contend, and impossible to fly, little Lorenzo * 

applause is due to that resignation which patiently awaits 
its doom. It is not therefore to be considered as enhancing 
that dignity of character which Lorenzo had so frequently 
displayed, that he sustained the last conflict with equanimity. 
“ To judge from his conduct and that of his servants,” says 
Politiano, “ you would have thought that it was they who 
momentarily expected that fate, from which he alone ap¬ 
peared to be exempt.” Even to the last the scintillations 
of his former vivacity were perceptible. Being asked, on 
taking a morsel of food, how he relished it, “As a dying 
man always does,” was his reply. Having affectionately 
embraced his surrounding friends, and submitted to the last 
ceremonies of the church, he became absorbed in medi¬ 
tation, occasionally repeating portions of scripture, and 
accompanying his ejaculations with elevated eyes and so¬ 
lemn gestures of his hands, till the energies of life gradually 
declining, and pressing to his lips a magnificent crucifix, he 
calmlv expired. 

In the height of his reputation, and at a premature 
period of life, thus died Lorenzo de’ Medici j a His character. 

5 In the life of Savonarola, written in Latin at considerable length by Giovan- 
francesco Pico, prince of Mirandula, nephew of the celebrated Pico whom we have 
had occasion so frequently to mention, an account is given of this interview, which 
differs in its most essential particulars from that which is above related. If we may 
credit this narrative, Lorenzo, when at the point of death, sent to request the attend-. 
ance of Savonarola, to whom he was desirous of making his confession. Savonarola 
accordingly came, but, before he would consent to receive him as a penitent, required 
that he should declare his adherence to the true faith ; to which Lorenzo assented. 
He then insisted on a promise from Lorenzo, that if he had unjustly obtained the 
property of others he would return it. Lorenzo, after a short hesitation, replied, 
“ Doubtless, father, I shall do this, or, if it be not in my power, I shall enjoin it as a 
duty upon my heirs.” Thirdly, Savonarola required that he should restore the 
republic to liberty, and establish it in its former state of independence; to which 
Lorenzo not choosing to make any reply, the priest left him without giving him his 
absolution. (Savonar. vita, inter vit. select, viror. ap. Bates. Lond. 1704.) A 
story that exhibits evident symptoms of that party-spirit which did not arise in Flo¬ 
rence until after the death of Lorenzo, and which, being contradictory to the account 
left by Politiano, written before the motives for misrepresentation existed, is ren¬ 
dered deserving of notice only by the necessity of its refutation. 


35G 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

man who may be selected from all the characters of an¬ 
cient and modern history, as exhibiting the most remark¬ 
able instance of depth of penetration, versatility of talent, 
and comprehension of mind. 6 Whether genius be a predo¬ 
minating impulse, directed towards some particular object, 
or whether it be an energy of intellect that arrives at excel¬ 
lence in any department in which it may be employed, it is 
certain that there are few instances in which a successful 
exertion in any human pursuit has not occasioned a derelic¬ 
tion of many other objects, the attainment of which might 
have conferred immortality. If the powers of the mind are 
to bear down all obstacles that oppose their progress, it 
seems necessary that they should sweep along in some cer¬ 
tain course, and in one collected mass. What then shall 
we think of that rich fountain, which, whilst it was poured 
out by so many different channels, flowed through each with 
a full and equal stream ? To be absorbed in one pursuit, 
however important, is not the characteristic of the higher 
class of genius, which, piercing through the various combi¬ 
nations and relations of surrounding circumstances, sees all 
things in their just dimensions, and attributes to each its 
due. Of the various occupations in which Lorenzo engaged, 
there is not one in which he was not eminently successful; 
but he was most particularly distinguished in those which 
justly hold the first rank in human estimation. The facility 
with which he turned from subjects of the highest impor¬ 
tance to those of amusement and levity, suggested to his 
countrymen the idea that he had two distinct souls combined 
in one body. Even his moral character seems to have par¬ 
taken, in some degree, of the same diversity; and his devo¬ 
tional poems are as ardent as his lighter poems are licentious. 
On all sides he touched the extremes of human character; 
and the powers of his mind were only bounded by that 
impenetrable circle which prescribes the limits of human 
nature. 7 

6 “ Soyons avares,” says M. Tenhove, “ du titre sacre de grand liomme, prodigue 
si souvent et si ridiculement aux plus minces personnages; mais ne le refusons point 
a Laurent de Medicis. Malheur a Fame froide et mal organisee, qui ne sentirait pas 
son extreme merite! On peut en toute surete s’estimer de son admiration pour lui.” 
Mem. Gen. liv. xi. p. 146. 7 V. Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 202. 


1492.] LORENZO BE’ MEDICI. 357 

As a statesman, Lorenzo de’ Medici appears to peculiar 
advantage. Uniformly employed in securing the Review of 
peace and promoting the happiness of his country 
by just regulations at home and wise precautions man - 
abroad, and teaching to the surrounding governments those 
important lessons of political science, on which the civiliza¬ 
tion and tranquillity of nations have since been found to 
depend. Though possessed of undoubted talents for mili¬ 
tary exploits, and of sagacity to avail himself of the imbecility 
of neighbouring powers, he was superior to that avarice of 
dominion, which, without improving what is already ac¬ 
quired, blindly aims at more extensive possessions. The 
wars in which he engaged were for security, not for terri¬ 
tory ; and the riches produced by the fertility of the soil, 
and the industry and ingenuity of the inhabitants of the 
Florentine republic, instead of being dissipated in imposing 
projects and ruinous expeditions, circulated in their natural 
channels, giving happiness to the individual, and respecta¬ 
bility to the state. If he was not insensible to the charms 
of ambition, it was the ambition to deserve rather than to 
enjoy; and he was always cautious not to exact from the 
public favour more than it might be ready voluntarily to 
bestow. The approximating suppression of the liberties of 
Florence, under the influence of his descendants, may in¬ 
duce suspicions unfavourable to his patriotism ; but it will 
be difficult, not to say impossible, to discover, either in his 
conduct or his precepts, anything that ought to stigmatize 
him as an enemy to the freedom of his country. The 
authority which he exercised was the same as that which his 
ancestors had enjoyed, without injury to the republic, for 
nearly a century, and had descended to him as inseparable 
from the wealth, the respectability, and the powerful foreign 
connections of his family. The superiority of his talents 
enabled him to avail himself of these advantages with irre¬ 
sistible effect; but history suggests not an instance in 
which they were devoted to any other purpose than that of 
promoting the honour and independence of the Tuscan 
state. It was not by the continuance, but by the derelic¬ 
tion of the system which he had established, and to which 


358 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

he adhered to the close of his life, that the Florentine re¬ 
public sunk under the degrading yoke of despotic power ; 
and to his premature death we may unquestionably attri¬ 
bute, not only the destruction of the commonwealth, but 
all the calamities that Italy soon afterwards sustained. 8 

The sympathies of mind, like the laws of chemical affi- 
Attachment nity, are uniform. Great talents attract admira- 
rentfne S F1 to tion, the offering of the understanding; but the 
Lorenzo. qualities of the heart can alone excite affection, 
the offering of the heart. If we may judge of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici by the ardour with which his friends and contempo¬ 
raries have expressed their attachment, we shall form con¬ 
clusions highly favourable to his sensibility and his social 
virtues. The exaction of those attentions usually paid to 
rank and to power, he left to such as had no other claims 
to respect; he rather chose to be considered as the friend 
and the equal, than as the dictator of his fellow-citizens. 
His urbanity extended to the lowest ranks of society; and 
while he enlivened the city of Florence by magnificent 
spectacles and amusing representations, he partook of them 
himself with a relish that set the example of festivity. It 
was the general opinion in Florence, that whoever was 
favoured by Lorenzo could not fail of success. Yalori re¬ 
lates, that in the representation of an engagement on horse¬ 
back, one of the combatants, who was supposed to con¬ 
tend under the patronage of Lorenzo, being overpowered 
and wounded, avowed his resolution to die rather than sub¬ 
mit to his adversary, and it was not without difficulty that 
he was rescued from the danger, to receive from the bounty 
of Lorenzo the reward of his well-meant though mistaken 
fidelity. 

The death of Lorenzo, which happened on the 8th 

Circum- day of April, 1492, was no sooner known at Flo- 
temung his rence, than a general alarm and consternation spread 
d ea th. throughout the city, and the inhabitants gave way 
to the most unbounded expressions of grief. Even those 
who were not friendly to the Medici lamented in this mis- 


8 Vide Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 205. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


359 


1492.] 

fortune the prospect of the evils to come. The agitation 
of the public mind was increased by a singular coincidence 
of calamitous events, which the superstition of the people 
considered as portentous of approaching commotions. The 
physician, Pier Leoni, whose prescriptions had failed of suc¬ 
cess, being apprized of the result, left Careggi in a state of 
distraction, and precipitated himself into a well in the 
suburbs of the city . 9 Two days preceding the death of 
Lorenzo, the great dome of the Beparata was struck with 
lightning, and on the side which approached towards the 
chapel of the Medici, a part of the building fell. It was 
also observed that one of the golden palle , or balls, in the 
emblazonment of the Medicean arms, was at the same time 
struck out. For three nights, gleams of light were said to 
have been perceived proceeding from the hill of Fiesole, and 
hovering above the church of S. Lorenzo, where the re¬ 
mains of the family were deposited. Besides these inci¬ 
dents, founded perhaps on some casual occurrence, and only 
rendered extraordinary by the workings of a heated imagi¬ 
nation, many others of a similar kind are related by con¬ 
temporary authors, which, whilst they exemplify that cre¬ 
dulity which characterizes the human race in every age, 
may at least serve to shew that the event to which they were 
supposed to allude, was conceived to be of such magnitude 
as to occasion a deviation from the ordinary course of na- 

9 Whether Leoni died a voluntary death has been doubted. The enemies of the 
Medici, who upon the death of Lorenzo began to meditate the ruin of his family, 
have accused Piero his son with the perpetration of the deed ; and this opinion is 
openly avowed by Giacopo Sanazaro in an Italian poem in terza rima , in which he 
has imitated Dante with great success. But 1 must observe, that this poem bears 
internal evidence of its having been written after the Medici were driven from Flo¬ 
rence, when their enemies were labouring by every possible means to render them 
odious. On the other hand, besides the testimony of Politiano that Leoni accelerated 
his own death, we have that of Petrus Crinitus (Piero Ricci), a contemporary 
author, who, in his treatise “ De honesta Disciplina,” has a chapter “ De hominibus 
qui se ipsos in puteum jaciant,” in which he thus adverts to the death of Leoni: 
“ Sed enim quod nuper accidit in Pietro Leonio, mirificum certe visum est; quando 
is, et in philosophia vir excellens, ac prudentia prope egregia, in puteum se Floren¬ 
tine suburbano immersit.” (Lib. iii. cap. 9.) This circumstance is also related by 
Valerianus. (De infel. literatorum, lib. i.) It appears, however, from an account of 
the death of Lorenzo, published by Fabroni, from a MS. diary of an anonymous 
Florentine author, yet preserved in the Magliabechi library, Cod. xvii. Class. 25, that 
Leoni entertained apprehensions for his safety from the attendants of Lorenzo, who, 
without just cause, suspected that he had occasioned his death by poison. Vide Il¬ 
lustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 210. 


360 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

ture . 10 From Careggi the body of Lorenzo was conveyed 
to the church of his patron saint, amidst the tears and la¬ 
mentations of all ranks of people, who bewailed the loss of 
their faithful protector, the glory of their city, the com¬ 
panion of their amusements, their common father and 
friend. His obsequies were without ostentation, he having, 
a short time before his death, given express directions to 
that effect. Not a tomb or an inscription marks the place 
that received his ashes; but the stranger, who, smitten with 
the love of letters and of arts, wanders amidst the splendid 
monuments erected to the chiefs of this illustrious family, 
the w T ork of Michelagnolo and of his powerful competitors, 
whilst he looks in vain for that inscribed with the name of 
Lorenzo, will be reminded of his glory by them all . 11 

Throughout the rest of Italy the death of Lorenzo was 
Testimonies regarded as a public calamity of the most alarm- 
of respect to ing kind. Of the arch w T hich supported the politi- 
1S memory, 0 f ^hat coun t r y h e had long been consi¬ 

dered as the centre, and his loss seemed to threaten the 
whole with immediate destruction. When Ferdinand, king 
of Naples, was informed of this event, he exclaimed, “ this 
man has lived long enough for his own glory, but too short 
a time for Italy . 5 ’ 12 Such of the Italian potentates as were 
more nearly connected with the Medici sent ambassadors to 
Florence on this occasion. Letters of condolence were 
transmitted to Piero from almost all the sovereigns of 
Europe. Many distinguished individuals also paid this last 
tribute to the memory of their friend and benefactor . 13 
Among these communications, dictated by flattery, by friend¬ 
ship, and by political motives, there is one of a more in¬ 
teresting nature. This is a letter from the young cardinal 

10 Ficinus in fine Plotini. Flor. 1492. Ammir. lib. xxvi. vol. iii. p. 186. Even 
Macliiavelli, an author seldom accused of superstition, seems on this occasion to con¬ 
cede his incredulity to the general opinion. (Hist. lib. viii.) He concludes his cele¬ 
brated history, as Guicciardini begins, with the highest eulogium on the character of 
Lorenzo. 

11 Vide Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 211. 

12 “ Satis sibi vir immortalitate dignissimus vixit, sed parum Italiae. Utinam ne 
quis eo sublato, moliatur, qum vivo, tentare ausus non fuisset.” In which Ferdinand 
was supposed to allude to Lod. Sforza. Fabr. Vita Laur. vol. i. p. 212. 

13 These letters, forming a collection in two volumes, are yet preserved in MS. in 
the Palazzo Vecchio at Florence, Filz. xxv. No. xv. 


1492.] LORENZO be’ MEDICI. 361 

Giovanni de’ Medici to his elder brother, written four days 
after the death of their father, which evinces that the cardi¬ 
nal was not without apprehensions from the temper and dis¬ 
position of Piero, and does equal honour to his prudence 
and to his filial piety. 

The Cardinal Giovanni de Medici , at Borne, to 
Piero de Medici , at Florence. 

“ My dearest brother, now the only support of our fa¬ 
mily ; what I have to communicate to thee, except my tears, 
I know not; for when I reflect on the loss we have sus¬ 
tained in the death of our father, I am more inclined to 
weep than to relate my sorrow. What a father have we 
lost ! How indulgent to his children ! Wonder not then 
that I grieve, that I lament, that I find no rest. Yet, my 
brother, I have some consolation in reflecting that I have 
thee, whom I shall always regard in the place of a father. 
Do thou command—I shall cheerfully obey. Thy injunc¬ 
tions will give me more pleasure than I can express—order 
me—put me to the test—there is nothing that shall pre¬ 
vent my compliance. Allow me however, my Piero, to ex¬ 
press my hopes, that in thy conduct to all, and particularly 
to those around thee, I may find thee as I could wish—be¬ 
neficent, liberal, affable, and humane; by which qualities 
there is nothing but may be obtained, nothing but may be 
preserved. Think not that I mention this from any doubt 
that I entertain of thee, but because I esteem it to be 
my duty. Many things strengthen and console me; the 
concourse of people that surround our house with lamen¬ 
tations, the sad and sorrowful appearance of the whole city, 
the public mourning, and other similar circumstances, 
these in a great degree alleviate my grief; but that which 
relieves me more than the rest, is, that I have thee, my 
brother, in whom I place a confidence that no words can 
describe, &c. Ex urhe , die 12 Ap. 1492. 5,14 

The common mediator of Italy being now no more, 
the same interested and unenlightened motives which had 

14 For the original, vide App. No. XLII. 


362 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 


so often rendered that country the seat of treachery and of 
bloodshed, again began to operate, and the ambitious views 
of the different sovereigns became the more dangerous, as 
they were the more concealed . 15 Such was the confidence 
which they had placed in Lorenzo, that not a measure of 
importance was determined on by any of them without 
its being previously communicated to him, when, if he 
thought it likely to prove hostile to the general tranquillity, 
he was enabled either to prevent its execution, or at least to 
obviate its ill effects; but upon his death a general suspi¬ 
cion of each other took place, and laid the foundation of the 
unhappy consequences that soon afterwards ensued. The 
Death of iii- impending evils of Italy were accelerated by the 
nocent vin. death of Innocent VIII. who survived Lorenzo only 
sion of Alex- a few months, and still more by the elevation to 
ander VL the pontificate of Roderigo Borgia, the scourge of 
Christendom, and the opprobrium of the human race . 16 

Piero de’ Medici, on whom the eyes and expectations of 
irruption of public were turned, gave early indications that 
the French he was unable to sustain the weight that had de¬ 
volved upon him. Elated with the authority de¬ 
rived from his father, but forgetting the admonitions by 
which it was accompanied, he relaxed the reins that con¬ 
trolled all Italy, to grasp at the supreme dominion of his 
native place. Eor this purpose he secretly formed a more 
intimate connection with the king of Naples and the pope, 
which being discovered by the penetrating eye of Lodo- 
vico Sforza, raised in him a spirit of jealousy which the pro¬ 
fessions and assurances of Piero could never allay. An in¬ 
terval of dissatisfaction, negotiation, and distrust, took 

15 Vide Illustrations of the Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, p. 214. 

16 A striking instance of the influence which Lorenzo had obtained over the mind 
of Innocent VIII. appears from one of his unpublished letters preserved in the 
Palazzo Vecchio at Florence, (Filz. lix. No. xiv.) dated the 16th day of June, 1488, 
from which we collect, that the pope had transmitted to him the list of an intended 
promotion of cardinals, which Lorenzo returns, informing him that he approves of 
the nomination of such of them whose names he has marked with a pen, and exhort¬ 
ing him to carry his intentions with respect to them into execution, concluding his 
letter with reminding the pope chi se pub consolare ancor lui, se ne ricordi. In fact, 
the assumption of Giovanni de’ Medici to the purple took place early in the follow¬ 
ing year; and as Innocent VIII. only made one promotion of cardinals during his 
pontificate, it appears that Lorenzo had sufficient address to procure the name of his 
son, who was then only thirteen years of age, to be included in the list. 


LORENZO DE' MEDICI. 


363 


1492.] 

place, till at length the solicitations of Lodovico, and the 
ambition of Charles VIII. brought into Italy a more for¬ 
midable and warlike race, whose arrival spread a general 
terror and alarm, and convinced, too late, the states and 
sovereigns of that country, of the folly of their mutual dis¬ 
sensions. Even Lodovico himself, who, in the expectation 
of weakening his rivals, and of vesting in himself the go¬ 
vernment of Milan, had incessantly laboured to accomplish 
this object, no sooner saw its approach than he shrunk from 
it in terror; and whilst he was obliged, for the sake of con¬ 
sistency, to persevere in exhorting Charles to proceed in his 
enterprise against the kingdom of Naples, he endeavoured, 
by secret emissaries to excite against him the most formi¬ 
dable opposition of the Italian powers. Lodovico having 
for this purpose despatched an envoy to Elorence, Piero 
conceived that he had obtained a favourable opportu¬ 
nity of convincing the king of Erance of the insincerity 
of his pretended ally, and thereby of deterring him from 
the further prosecution of his undertaking; but however 
laudable his purpose might be, the means which he adopted 
for its accomplishment reflect but little credit on his 
talents. In the palace of the Medici was an apartment 
which communicated with the gardens by a secret door, 
constructed by Lorenzo de’ Medici for the purpose of con¬ 
venience and retirement. In this room Piero, pretending 
to be sick, contrived an interview with the agent of Lodovico, 
whilst the envoy of Charles VIII., secreted behind the door, 
was privy to their conversation. 17 Whether Piero had not 
the address to engage the Milanese sufficiently to develop 
the views of his master, or whether the French envoy found 
the Italian politicians equally undeserving of confidence, 
rests only on conjecture; but the communication of this 
incident to Charles, tended not in the slightest degree 
to avert the impending calamity. On the contrary, 
the conduct of Piero being made known to Lodovico, 
rendered any further communication between them impos¬ 
sible, and by preventing that union of the Italian states, 


17 Oricell. de bello Ital. p. 24. 


364 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

which alone could have opposed with effect the further pro¬ 
gress of the French arms, facilitated an enterprise that could 
owe its success only to the misconduct of its opponents. 18 

This unfortunate event led the way to another incident 

Expulsion more immediately destructive to the credit and 
did from Fio- authority of Piero de’ Medici. Charles, at the 
mu*. head 0 f hi s troops, had without resistance reached 
the confines of the Florentine state, and had attacked the 
town of Sarzana, which Lorenzo, after having recovered it 
from the Genoese, had strongly fortified. The approach of 
such a formidable body of men, the reputation they had 
acquired, and the atrocities they had committed in their 
progress, could not fail of exciting great consternation in 
Florence, where the citizens began freely to express their 
dissatisfaction with Piero de’ Medici, who they asserted had, 
by his rash and intemperate measures, provoked the resent¬ 
ment of a powerful sovereign, and endangered the very 
existence of the republic. This crisis suggested to Piero the 
situation in which his father stood, when, in order to ter¬ 
minate a war which threatened him with destruction, he 
had hastened to Naples, and, placing himself in the power 
of an avowed enemy, had returned to Florence with the 
credentials of peace. 19 The present season appeared to him 
favourable for a similar attempt; but, as Guicciardini judi¬ 
ciously observes, it is dangerous to guide ourselves by pre¬ 
cedent, unless the cases be exactly alike; unless the at¬ 
tempt be conducted with equal prudence; and, above 
all, unless it be attended with the same good fortune. 20 
The impetuosity of Piero prevented him from observing 
these distinctions—hastening to the French camp, he 
threw himself at the feet of Charles, who received his sub¬ 
mission with coldness and disdain. 21 Finding his en¬ 
treaties ineffectual, he became lavish in his offers to pro¬ 
mote the interests of the king, and, as a pledge of his 
fidelity, proposed to deliver up to him not only the im¬ 
portant fortress of Sarzana, which had till then successfully 
resisted his attacks, but also the town of Pietra Santa, and 


18 Guicciardini, lib. i. 

*° Guicciard. Hist, d’ltalia, lib. i. 


19 Vide ante, chap. iv. 

21 Oricell. de bello Ital. p. 39. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


365 


1492 .] 

the cities of Pisa and Leghorn, Charles at the same time 
undertaking to restore them when he had accomplished his 
conquest of the kingdom of Naples . 22 The temerity of 
Piero in provoking the resentment of Charles, added to his 
inability to ward off, and his pusillanimity in resisting the 
blow, completed what his ambition and his arrogance had 
begun, and for ever deprived him of the respect and con¬ 
fidence of his fellow-citizens. On his return to Florence, 
after this disgraceful compromise, he was refused admittance 
into the palace of the magistrates, and finding that the 
people at large were so highly exasperated against him as 
to endanger his personal safety, he hastily withdrew himself 
from his native place, and retreated to Venice . 23 The dis¬ 
tress and devastation which the inhabitants of Italy expe¬ 
rienced for a series of years after this event have afforded a 
subject upon which their historians have dwelt with melan¬ 
choly accuracy. Amidst these disasters, there is perhaps 

22 The French were themselves astonished at the prodigality of Piero, and the 
facility with which he delivered into their hands places of so much importance. 
(Mem. de Commines, lib. vii. p. 198.) The day after Piero had entered into his unfor¬ 
tunate treaty, Lodovico Sforza arrived at the French camp, when Piero, who was 
not at open enmity with him, excused himself for not having met him on the road, 
because Lodovico had missed his way. “ It is true enough,” said Lodovico, “ that 
one of us has lost his way, but perhaps it may prove to be yourself.” Guic. lib. i. 

23 Condivi relates an extraordinary story respecting Piero de’ Medici, communi¬ 
cated to him by Michelagnolo, who had, it seems, formed an intimacy with one Car- 
diere, an improwisatore, that frequented the house of Lorenzo, and amused his 
evenings with singing to the lute. Soon after the death of Lorenzo, Cardiere 
informed Michelagnolo, that Lorenzo had appeared to him, habited only in a black 
and ragged mantle thrown over his naked limbs, and had ordered him to acquaint 
Piero de’ Medici, that he would in a short time be banished from Florence. Cardiere, 
who seems judiciously to have feared the resentment of the living more than that of 
the dead, declined the office; hut soon afterwards Lorenzo entering his chamber at 
midnight, awoke him, and reproaching him with his inattention, gave him a violent 
blow on the cheek. Having communicated this second visit to his friend, who 
advised him no longer to delay his errand, he set out for Careggi, where Piero then 
resided ; but meeting him with his attendants about midway between that place and 
Florence, he there delivered his message, to the great amusement of Piero and his 
followers, one of whom, Bernardo Divizio, afterwards Cardinal da Bibbiena, sarcas¬ 
tically asked him, “ Whether, if Lorenzo had been desirous of giving information to 
his son, it was likely he would have preferred such a messenger to a personal com¬ 
munication ?” The biographer adds, with great solemnity, “ La vision del Cardiere, 
o delusion diabolica, o predizion divina, o forte immaginazione, ch’ ella si fosse, si 
verifico.”—But the awful spectre is now before me—I see the terrified musician start 
from his slumbers; his left hand grasps his beloved lyre, whilst with his right thrown 
over his head, he attempts to shroud himself from the looks of Lorenzo, who with a 
countenance more in sorrow than in anger, points out to him his destined mission. 
To realize this scene so as to give it interest and effect, required the glowing imagi¬ 
nation and the animated pencil of a Fuseli. 


3 6G 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

no circumstance that so forcibly excites the regret of the 
friends of letters, as the plundering of the palace of the 
Medici, and the dispersion of that invaluable library, whose 
origin and progress have before been traced. The French 
troops that had entered the city of Florence without oppo¬ 
sition, led the way to this sacrilegious deed, in the perpe¬ 
tration of which they were joined by the Florentines them¬ 
selves, who openly carried off, or secretly purloined, what¬ 
ever they could discover that was interesting, rare, or va¬ 
luable. Besides the numerous manuscripts in almost every 
language, the depredators seized, with contentious avidity, 
the many inestimable specimens of the arts with which the 
house of the Medici abounded, and which had long ren¬ 
dered it the admiration of strangers, and the chief ornament 
of the city. Exquisite pieces of ancient sculpture, vases, 
cameos, and gems of various kinds, more estimable for their 
workmanship than for their native value, shared in the general 
ruin; and all that the assiduity and the riches of Lorenzo 
and his ancestors had been able to accumulate in half a 
century, was dissipated or demolished in a day . 24 

The same reverse of fortune that overwhelmed the poli¬ 
tical labours of Lorenzo, that rendered his descendants 
fugitives, and dispersed his effects, seemed to extend to his 
friends and associates, almost all of whom unhappily 

24 The destruction of this invaluable collection is pathetically related by Bernardo 
Rucellai. “ Hie me studium charitasque litterarum antiquitatis admonet, ut non 
possim non deplorare inter subitas fundatissimae familiae ruinas, Mediceam bibliothe- 
cam, insignesque thesauros, quorum pars a Gallis, pars a paucis e nostris, rem tur- 
pissimam honesta specie praetendentibus, furacissime subrepta sunt. Nam cum jam 
pridem gens Medicea floreret omnibus copiis, terra, marique cuncta exquirere, dum 
sibi Graecarum, Latinarumque litterarum monumenta, toreumata, gemmas, marga- 
ritas, aliaque hujuscemodi opera, natura simul et antiquo artificio conspicua compa- 
rarent,” &c. “ Testimonio sunt litterae gemmis ipsis incisae Laurentii nomen prae- 

ferentes, quas ille sibi familiaeque suae prospiciens scalpendas curavit, futurum ad 
posteros regii splendoris monumentum,” &c. “ Haec omnia magno conquisita studio, 
summisque parta opibus, et ad multum aevi in deliciis habita, quibus nihil nobilius, 
nihil Florentiae quod magis visendum putaretur, uno puncto temporis in praedam ces- 
sere; tanta Gallorum avaritia, perfidiaque nostrorum fuit.” (De bello Ital. p. 52, &c.) 
This event is also commemorated by P. de Commines, who with true Gothic sim¬ 
plicity, relates the number, weight, and saleable value of the articles of which the 
palace of the Medici was plundered. The antique vases he denominates, “ beaux 
pots d’agate—et tant de beaux camayeux, bien tailles que merveilles (qu’autrefois 
j’avois veus) et bien trois mille medales d’or et d’argent, bien la pesanteur de qua- 
rante livres; et croi qu’il n’y avoit point autant de belles medales en Italie. Ce 
qu’il perdit ce jour en la cite valoit cent mille ecus et plus.” Mem. de Com. liv. 
vii. c. 9. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


367 


1494.] 

perished within a short interval after his death, although in 
the common course of nature they might have expected a 
longer life. The first of these eminent men was Ermolao 
Barbaro, of whose friendly intercourse with Lorenzo DeathofEr 
many testimonies remain, and who died of the m °iao Bar- 
plague in the year 1493, when only thirty-nine bar °' 
years of age. 25 This event was succeeded by the death of 
Pico of Mirandula, who in his thirty-second year Pico of 
fell a victim to his avidity for science, and has left Mirandula - 
posterity to regret that he turned his astonishing acquisi¬ 
tions to so little account. Nor did Politiano long Agno i 0 

survive his great patron. He died at Florence on Politiano - 

the 24th day of September, 1494, when he had just com¬ 
pleted his fortieth year. 

It is painful to reflect on the propensity which has ap¬ 
peared in all ages to sully the most illustrious cha- Absurd ac - 
racters by the imputation of the most degrading Meeting his 
crimes. Jovius, with apparent gravity, informs us, death - 
that Politiano, having entertained a criminal passion for one 
of his pupils, died in the paroxysm of an amorous fever, 
whilst he was singing his praises on the lute; 26 and this 

25 The life and learned labours of Ermolao have afforded a subject of much dis¬ 

cussion to Vossius, Bayle, and others, and have been considered with particular accu¬ 
racy by Apostolo Zeno, (Dissert. Voss. vol. ii. p. 348, et seq.) His first work was a 
treatise “ De Caelibatu," which he wrote at eighteen years of age. His “ Castiga- 
tiones Plinianae” entitle him to rank with the most successful restorers of learning. 
Politiano denominates him Hermolaus Barbarus barbarice hostis acerrimus. (Miscel. 
cap. xc.) Being on an embassy to Rome in the year 1491, Innocent VIII. conferred 
on him the high dignity of Patriarch of Aquileja, which he accepted without regard¬ 
ing the decree of the Venetian government, which directed that none of their minis¬ 
ters at the court of Rome should receive any ecclesiastical preferment without the 
consent of the council. His father, who held the second office in the state, is said to 
have died of chagrin, because he could not prevail upon his countrymen to approve 
the preferment of his son. But Ermolao availed himself of his dismission from pub¬ 
lic business, to return with greater earnestness to his studies, and in two years wrote 
more than he had done for twenty years preceding. In his last sickness at Rome, 
Pico of Mirandula sent him a remedy for the cure of the plague, composed of the 
oil of scorpions, the tongues of asps, &c. “ Ut nihil fieri posset contra pestilentem 

morbum commodius aut presentius.” (Crin. de honest. Discip. lib. i. c. 7.) But 
this grand panacea arrived too late. “ Egli non e da tacersi,” says Apostolo Zeno, 
“ un gran fregio di questo valente uomo, ed e, che visse, e mori vergine. ,> Which in¬ 
formation is confirmed by the authority of Piero Dolfini, who, in a letter to Ugolino 
Verini asserts, quod absque ulla carnis contagione vixerit. (Diss. Voss, 
ii. p. 385.) A very particular account of the manners and person of Ermolao is 
given in a letter from Piero de’ Medici to his father Lorenzo, then absent at the baths 
of Vignone, from which it appears, that he had paid a visit to Florence, and was re¬ 
ceived there with great honour as the friend of Lorenzo. App. No. XLIII. 

26 Jovii Elog. cap. xxxviii. 


368 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

preposterous tale lias been repeated, with singular variations, 
by many subsequent writers. To attempt a serious refuta¬ 
tion of so absurd a charge would be an useless undertaking; 
but it may not be uninteresting to inquire by what circum¬ 
stances it was first suggested; as it may serve to shew on 
how slight a foundation detraction can erect her super¬ 
structure. On the death of Lorenzo de’ Medici, Politiano 
attempted to pour forth his grief in the following monody 
to his memory, which, although left in an unfinished state, 
and not to be ranked, in point of composition, with many 
of his other writings, is strongly expressive of the anguish 
and agitation of his mind: 

MONODIA IN LAURENTIUM MEDICEM. 

His monody Q u i s dabit capiti meo 

on Lorenzo. Aquam ? quis oculis meis 

Fontem lachrymarum dabit ? 

Ut nocte fleam, 

Ut luce fleam. 

Sic turtur viduus solet; 

Sic cygnus moriens solet; 

Sic luscinia conqueri. 

Heu miser, miser; 

O dolor, dolor. 

—Laurus impetu fulminis 
Ilia ilia jacet subito ; 

Laurus omnium Celebris 
Musarum choris, 

Nympharum choris, 

Sub cujus patula coma, 

Et Phoebi lyra blandius 
Et vox dulcius insonat. 

Nunc muta omnia, 

Nunc surda omnia. 

—Quis dabit capiti meo 
Aquam ? quis oculis meis 
Fontem lachrymarum dabit ? 

Ut nocte fleam, 

Ut luce fleam. 

Sic turtur viduus solet; 

Sic cygnus moriens solet; 

Sic luscinia conqueri. 

Heu miser, miser; 

O dolor, dolor! 


Who from perennial streams shall bring, 

Of gushing floods a ceaseless spring ? 

That through the day in hopeless woe, 
That through the night my tears may flow. 



1494.] 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


369 


As the ’reft turtle mourns his mate 
As sings the swan his coming fate, 

As the sad nightingale complains, 

I pour my anguish and my strains. 

Ah wretched, wretched past relief, 

0 grief, beyond all other grief! 

—Through heaven the gleamy lightning flies, 
And prone on earth my laurel lies: 

That laurel, boast of many a tongue, 

Whose praises every muse has sung, 

Which every dryad of the grove, 

And all the tuneful sisters love ; 

That laurel, that erewhile displayed 
Its ample honours ; in whose shade 
To louder notes was strung the lyre, 

And sweeter sang th’ Aonian choir, 

Now silent, silent all around, 

And deaf the ear that drank the sound. 

—Who from perennial streams shall bring, 

Of gushing floods a ceaseless spring ? 

That through the day, in hopeless woe, 

That through the night, my tears may flow. 

As the reft turtle mourns his mate, 

As sings the swan his coming fate, 

As the sad nightingale complains, 

I pour my anguish and my strains. 

Ah wretched, wretched past relief, 

Oh grief, beyond all other grief! 


Such was the object of the affections of Politiano, and 
such the amorous effusion, in the midst of which he was 
intercepted by the hand of death; yet if we advert to the 
charges which have been brought against him, we shall find 
that they are chiefly, if not wholly, to be attributed to a 
misrepresentation, or perversion, of these lines. Of those 
who, after Jovius, have repeated the accusation, one author 
informs us, that the verses which Politiano addressed to the 
object of his love were so tender and impassioned, that he ex¬ 
pired just as he had finished the second couplet . 27 Another 
relates, that in the frenzy of a fever, he had eluded the 
vigilance of his guard, and escaping from his bed, seized 
his lute, and began to play upon it under the window of a 
young Greek, of whom he was enamoured, whence he was 
brought back by his friends, half dead, and expired in his 
bed soon afterwards . 28 We are next informed, that in a fit 
of amorous impatience, he occasioned his own death, by 

27 Varillas, Anecdotes de Florence, lib. iv. p. 196. 28 Menck. in Vita Pol. p. 472. 

24 


370 THE LIFE OF [CH. X. 

striking his head against the wall : 29 whilst a fourth author 
assures us, that he was killed by a fall from the stairs, as he 
was singing to his lute an elegy which he had composed on 
the death of Lorenzo de’ Medici. 30 The contrariety of these 
relations, not one of which is supported by the slightest 
pretence to serious or authentic testimony, is itself a suffi¬ 
cient proof of their futility. Some years after the death of 
Politiano, the celebrated cardinal Bembo, touched with the 
untimely fate of a man whom he was induced, by a simi¬ 
larity of taste and character, to love and admire, paid a 
tribute of gratitude and respect to his memory in a few 
elegiac verses, in which, alluding to the unfinished monody 
of Politiano, he represents him as sinking under the stroke 
of fate, at the moment when, frantic with excess of grief, 
he was attempting, by the power of music, to revoke the 
fatal decree which had deprived him of his friend. 


POLITIANI TUMULUS. 


Politiano cele¬ 
brated by Car¬ 
dinal Bembo. 


Duceret extincto cum mors Laurente triumphum, 
Laetaque pullatis inveheretur equis, 

Respicit insano ferientem pollice chordas, 

Viscera singultu concutiente, virum. 

Mirata est, tenuitque jugum: furit ipse, pioque 
Laurentem cunctos flagitat ore Deos. 

Miscebat precibus lachrymas, lachrymisque dolorem; 

Verba ministrabat liberiora dolor. 

Risit, et antiquae non immemor ilia querelae, 

Orpbei Tartariae cum patuere viae, 

Hie etiam infernas tentat rescindere leges, 

Fertque suas, dixit, in mea jura manus. 

Protinus et flentem percussit dura poetam; 

Rupit et in mfidio pectora docta sono. 

—Heu sic tu raptus, sic te mala fata tulerunt, 
Arbiter Ausoniae, Politiane, lyrae. 


Whilst borne in sable state, Lorenzo’s bier 
The tyrant Death, his proudest triumph, brings, 

He mark’d a bard in agony severe, 

Smite with delirious hand the sounding strings. 

He stopp’d—he gazed—the storm of passion raged, 

And prayers with tears were mingled, tears with grief; 

For lost Lorenzo, war with fate he waged, 

And every god was call’d to bring relief. 

59 “ Vulgo fertur,” says Vossius, (De Hist. Lat. lib. iii. c. 8.) “ obiisse Politianum 
feedi amoris impatientia capite in parietem illiso.” Ap. Menck. 470. 

30 Bullart, Acad, des Hommes illustres, tom. i. p. 278. 



1494.] 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


371 


The tyrant smiled,—and mindful of the hour 
When from the shades his consort Orpheus led, 
u Rebellious too wouldst thou usurp my power, 

And burst the chain that binds the captive dead ?” 

He spoke—and speaking, launch’d the shaft of fate, 

And closed the lips that glow’d with sacred fire. 

His timeless doom ’twas thus Politian met— 

Politian, master of <th’ Ausonian lyre. 

The fiction of the poet, that Politiano had incurred the 
resentment of Death by his affection for the object of his 
passion, suggests nothing more than that this death was 
occasioned by sorrow for the loss of his friend; but the 
verses of Bembo seem to have given a further pretext to 
the enemies of Politiano, who appear to have mistaken the 
friend whom he has celebrated for the object of an amorous 
passion, and to have interpreted these lines, so honourable 
to Politiano, in a manner not only the most unfavourable 
to his character, but the most opposite to their real purport, 
and to the occasion which gave them birth. 31 

Prom authentic documents which yet remain respecting 
the death of this eminent scholar, it appears that he breathed 
his last in the midst of his relatives and friends, having first 
expressed his desire to be buried in the church of S. Marco, 
in the habit of the Domenican order. This request was 
complied with by the piety of his pupil Roberto Ubaldini, 
one of the monks of the convent of S. Marco, who has left a 
memorial in his own handwriting of the circumstances at¬ 
tending his death. 33 His remains were accordingly deposited 
in the church of S. Marco, where his memory is preserved in 
an epitaph very unworthy of his character and genius. 33 

31 Menck. p. 476. These imputations on the moral character of Politiano have 
also been frequently adverted to by other authors: thus J. C. Scaliger: 

“ Obscaeno moreris sed, Politiane, furore.” 

And in yet grosser terms by Andrea Dati: 

“ Et ne te teneam diutius, quot 
Paedicat pueros Politianus.” 

Vide Menagiana, vol. iv. p. 122. 

32 The indefatigable Abate Mehus, in his life of Ambrogio Traversari, first pro¬ 
duced these documents. 

33 POLITIANUS. 

IN. HOC. TUMULO. JACET. 

ANGELUS. UNUM. 

GUI. CAPUT. ET. LINGUAS. 

RES. NOVA. TRES. H ABU IT. 

OBIIT. AN. MCCCCLXXXXIV. 

SEP. XXIV. AiTATIS. 

XL. 


372 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

The various and discordant relations respecting the death 
of Politiano are happily adverted to by one of his country¬ 
men, in the following lines: 

PAMPHILI SAXI, 

DE MORTE ANGELI POLITIANI. 

Quo cecidit fato nostri decus Angelus aevi, 

Gentis et Etruscse gloria, scire cupis ? 

Icteric! non hunc labes tristissima morbi, 

Febris ad Elysias vel tulit atra domos; 

Non inflans humor pectus, non horrida bilis; 

Mortiferae pestis denique nulla lues: 

Sed, quoniam rigidas ducebat montibus ornos, 

Frangebat scopulos, decipiebat aves, 

Mulcebat tigres, sistebat flumina cantu, 

Plectra movens plectro dulcius Ismario. 

Non plus Threicium laudabunt Orphea gentes, 

Calliope dixit; dixit Apollo, Linum; 

Jamque tacet nostrum rupes Heliconia nomen— 

Et simul hunc gladio supposuere necis. 

Mors tamen haec illi vita est, nam gloria magna 
Invidia Phcebi Calliopesque mori. 


Ask’st thou what cause consign’d to early fate 
Politian, glory of the Tuscan state ? 

—Not loathsome jaundice tainting all the frame, 

Not rapid fever’s keen consuming flame, 

Not viscous rheum that chokes the struggling breath, 

Nor any vulgar minister of death; 

—’Twas that his song to life and motion charm’d 
The mountain oaks, the rock’s cold bosom warm’d, 

Stay’d the prone flood, the tiger’s rage controll’d, 

With sweeter strains than Orpheus knew of old.— 

“ Dimm’d is the lustre of my Grecian fame,” 

Exclaim’d Calliope—“ No more my name 
“ Meets even in Helicon its due regard,” 

Apollo cry’d, and pierced the tuneful bard— 

—Yet lives the bard in lasting fame approved, 

Who Phoebus and the muse to envy moved. 

The expulsion of Piero de’ Medici from Florence neither 
Disturbances contributed to establish the tranquillity, nor to 
Girolamo Sa- preserve the liberty of the republic. The inha- 
vonaroia. bitants exulted for a time in the notion that they 
were freed from the tyranny of a family which had held 
. them so long in subjection; but they soon discovered that 
it was necessary to supply its absence, by increasing the 
executive power of the state. Twenty citizens were accord¬ 
ingly chosen by the appellation of Accopiatori , who were 



LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


373 


1494.] 

invested, not only with the power of raising money, but 
also of electing the chief magistrates. This form of govern¬ 
ment met, however, with an early and formidable oppo¬ 
sition ; and to the violence of political dissensions was soon 
superadded the madness of religious enthusiasm. The fa¬ 
natic Savonarola having, by pretensions to immediate in¬ 
spiration from God, and by harangues well calculated to 
impress the minds of the credulous, formed a powerful 
party, began to aim at political importance. Adopting the 
popular side of the question, he directed the whole torrent 
of his eloquence against the new mode of government, 
affirming that he was divinely authorized to declare that 
the legislative power ought to be extended to the citizens 
at large; that he had himself been the ambassador of the 
Florentines to heaven, and that Christ had condescended 
to be their peculiar monarch. 34 The exertions of Savo¬ 
narola were successful. The newly-elected magistrates vo¬ 
luntarily abdicated their offices, and an effort was made 
to establish the government on a more popular basis, by 
vesting the legislative power of the state in the Consiglio 
Maggiore , or Council of the Citizens, and in a select body, 
called the Consiglio degli Scelti , or Select Council. 35 The 
first of these was to be composed of at least one thousand 
citizens, who could derive their citizenship by descent, and 
were upwards of thirty years of age; the latter consisted of 
eighty members, who were elected half-yearly from the 
great council, and were upwards of forty years of age. 36 
These regulations, instead of uniting the citizens in one 
common interest, gave rise to new distinctions. The Fra- 
tcsc/ii, or adherents of Savonarola, who were in general fa¬ 
vourable to the liberty of the lower classes of the inha¬ 
bitants, regarded the friar as the messenger of heaven, as 
the guide of their temporal and eternal happiness; whilst 
the Compagnacci , or adherents to a more aristocratical go- 

34 Nerli Commentarj de’ Fatti civili de Firenze, lib. iv. p. 65. Aug. 1728. 

35 To this government Machiavelli alludes in his second Decennale: 

“ E dopo qualche disparer trovaste, 

Nuov’ ordine al governo, e furon tante, 

Che il vostro stato popolar fondaste.” 

36 Nerli, Comment, lib. iv. pp. 66, 67. 


374 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

vernment, represented him as a factious impostor; and 
Alexander VI. seconded their cause by fulminating against 
him the anathemas of the church. Thus impelled by the 
most powerful motives that can actuate the human mind, 
the citizens of Florence were seized with a temporary 
insanity. In the midst of their devotions, they frequently 
rushed in crowds from the church, to assemble in the public 
squares, crying Viva Cristo, singing hymns, and dancing in 
circles, formed by a citizen and a friar, placed alternately. 37 
The hymns sung on these occasions were chiefly composed 
by Girolamo Benivieni, who appears to have held a distin¬ 
guished rank amongst these disciples of fanaticism. 38 The 
enemies of Savonarola were as immoderate in their oppo¬ 
sition as his partisans were in their attachment. Even the 
children of the city were trained in opposite factions, and 
saluted each other with showers of pebbles; in which con¬ 
tests the gravest citizens were sometimes unable to resist 
the inclination of taking a part. 39 

Such was the state of Florence in the year 1497, when 
Adherents Pi ero de’ Medici, who had long waited for an 
of the Medici opportunity of regaining his authority, entered 
capi a e. a negotiation with several of his adherents, 
who undertook, at an appointed hour, to admit him within 
the walls of the city, with the troops which he had obtained 
from the Venetian republic, and from his relations of the 
Orsini family. Piero did not, however, make his appear¬ 
ance till the opportunity of assisting him was past. His 
abettors were discovered; five of them, of the chief families 
of Florence, were decapitated ; the rest were imprisoned or 
sent into banishment. The persons accused would have 
appealed from their judges to the Consiglio Grande , accord- 

37 Nerli Comment, lib. iv. p. 75. 

38 Some of these compositions are preserved in the general collection of his 
poems. The following lines, which seem peculiarly adapted for such an occasion, 
may serve as a specimen: 

“ Non fu mai’l piu. hel solazzo, 

Piii giocondo ne maggiore, 

Che per zelo, e per amore 
Di Jesu, diventar pazzo. 

Ognun gridi com’ io grido, 

Sempre pazzo, pazzo, pazzo.” 

Op. di Beniv. p. 143. 


39 Nerli, Comment, lib. iv. p. 74. 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


375 


1497.] 

mg to a law which had lately been obtained by the influ¬ 
ence of the Frateschi; but that party, with Savonarola at 
their head, were clamorous for the execution of the delin¬ 
quents, and, in spite of the law which they had themselves 
introduced, effected their purpose. Amongst the five suf¬ 
ferers was Lorenzo Tornabuoni, the maternal cousin of 
Lorenzo de’ Medici, of whose accomplishments Politiano 
has left a very favourable account, and to whom he has 
inscribed his beautiful poem entitled “ Ambra.” 40 

The authority of Savonarola was now at its highest pitch. 
Instead of a republic, Florence assumed the ap- Disgraceand 
pearance of a theocracy, of which Savonarola was execution of 
the prophet, the legislator, and the judge. 41 He Savonarola * 
perceived not, however, that he had arrived at the edge of 
the precipice, and that by one step further he might incur 
destruction. Amongst the methods resorted to by the 
opponents of Savonarola to weaken his authority and to 
counteract his pretensions, they had attacked him with his 
own weapons, and had excited two Franciscan monks to 
declaim against him from the pulpit. Savonarola found it 
necessary to call in the aid of an assistant, for which purpose 
he selected Fra Domenico da Pescia, a friar of his own con¬ 
vent of S. Marco. The contest was kept up by each of the 
contending parties with equal fury, till Domenico, trans¬ 
ported with zeal for the interests of his master, proposed to 
confirm the truth of his doctrines by walking through the 
flames, provided any one of his adversaries would submit to 
a similar test. By a singular coincidence, which is alone 
sufficient to demonstrate to what a degree the passions of 
the people were excited, a Franciscan friar accepted the 
challenge, and professed himself ready to proceed to the 
proof. The mode of trial became the subject of serious de¬ 
liberation among the chief officers of the republic. Two 
deputies were elected on behalf of each of the parties, to 

40 Vide ante, p. 291. 

41 This fanatical party proceeded so far as even to strike a coin on the occasion, a 
specimen of which in silver is preserved in the collection of the late Earl of Orford, to 
whose kind communications, since the first edition of this work, I have been greatly 
indebted. On one side is the Florentine device, or fleur de lys> with the motto, 
senatus poruLusauE florentinus ; on the other, a cross, with the motto, jesus 

CHRISTUS REX NOSTER. 


376 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

arrange and superintend this extraordinary contest. The 
combustibles were prepared, and over them was erected a 
scaffold, which afforded a commodious passage into the 
midst of the flames. On the morning of the day appointed, 
being the 17tli day of April, 1498, Savonarola and his 
champion made their appearance, with a numerous proces¬ 
sion of ecclesiastics, Savonarola himself intonating, with a 
tremendous voice, the psalm “ Exurgat Deus et dissipentur 
inimici ejus.” His opponent, Era Giuliano Rondinelli, 
attended by a few Franciscan monks, came sedately and 
silently to the place of trial; the flames were kindled, and 
the agitated spectators waited with impatience for the mo¬ 
ment that should renew the miracle of the Chaldean furnace. 
Savonarola finding that the Franciscan was not to be de¬ 
terred from the enterprise either by his vociferations, or by 
the sight of the flames, was obliged to have recourse to 
another expedient, and insisted that his champion Dome¬ 
nico, when he entered the fire, should bear the host along 
with him. This sacrilegious proposal shocked the whole 
assembly. The prelates who, together with the state depu¬ 
ties, attended the trial, exclaimed against an experiment 
which might subject the catholic faith to too severe a test, 
and bring a scandal upon their holy religion. Domenico, 
however, clung fast to the twig which his patron had thrown 
out, and positively refused to encounter the flames without 
this sacred talisman. This expedient, whilst it saved the 
life of the friar, ruined the credit of Savonarola. On his 
return to the convent of S. Marco, he was insulted by the 
populace, who bitterly reproached him, that after having 
encouraged them to cry Viva Christo , he should impiously 
propose to commit him to the flames. Savonarola attempted 
to regain his authority by addressing them from the pulpit, 
but his enemies were too vigilant; seizing the opportunity 
of his disgrace, they first attacked the house of Francesco 
Valori, one of his most powerful partisans, who, together 
with his wife, was sacrificed to their fury. They then 
secured Savonarola, with his associate Domenico, and another 
friar of the same convent, and dragged them to prison. An 
assembly of ecclesiastics and seculars, directed by an emis- 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


377 


1498.] 

sary of Alexander VI. sat in judgment upon them. The 
resolution and eloquence of Savonarola, on his first inter¬ 
view, intimidated his judges ; and it was not till recourse 
was had to the implements of torture—the ultima theolo- 
gorum ratio , that Savonarola betrayed his weakness, and 
acknowledged the fallacy of his pretensions to supernatural 
powers. His condemnation instantly followed; and the 
unhappy priest, with his two attendants, was led to execu¬ 
tion in the same place, and with the same apparatus, as had 
been prepared for the contest; where, being first strangled, 
their bodies were committed to the flames; and, lest the 
city should be polluted by their remains, their ashes were 
carefully gathered and thrown into the Arno. 42 

From the time that Piero de’ Medici quitted the city of 
Florence, he experienced a continual succession of Death of 
mortifications and disappointments. Flattered, pie ™ de> 
deserted, encouraged, and betrayed, by the dif¬ 
ferent potentates to whom he successively applied for assist¬ 
ance, his prospects became daily more unfavourable, and 
his return to Florence more improbable. In the mean time 
a new war had arisen in Italy. Louis XII. the successor of 
Charles VIII. after having, in conjunction with Ferdinand, 
king of Spain, accomplished the conquest of Naples, dis¬ 
agreed with him in the partition of the spoil, and Italy 
became the theatre of their struggle. On this occasion 
Piero entered into the service of the French, and was pre¬ 
sent at an engagement that took place between them and 
the Spaniards, on the banks of the Garigliano, in which 
they were defeated with great loss. In effecting his escape 
Piero attempted to pass the river, but the boat in which he, 
with several other men of rank, had embarked, being laden 
with heavy cannon, sunk in the midst of the current, and 
Piero miserably perished, after having supported an exile of 
ten years. By his wife Alfonsina, he left a son named 
Lorenzo, and a daughter Clarice. 

Few men have derived from nature greater advantages, 
and perhaps never any one enjoyed a better op- His character. 

42 Nerli, Comment, lib. iv. p. 78. Savonarolae Vita, tom. ii. seu additiones. Par. 
1674, passim. 


378 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

portunity of improving them, than Piero de’ Medici. A 
robust form, a vigorous constitution, great personal strength 
and activity, and a share of talents beyond the common 
lot, were the endowments of his birth. To these was 
added a happy combination of external affairs, resulting 
from the opulence and respectability of his family, the 
powerful alliances by which it was strengthened, and the 
high reputation which his father had so deservedly acquired. 
But these circumstances, apparently so favourable to his 
success, were precisely the causes of his early ruin. Pre¬ 
suming on his security, he supposed that his authority could 
not be shaken nor his purposes defeated. Forgetting the 
advice so often repeated to him by his father, to “ remember 
that he was only a citizen of Florence,” he neglected or 
disdained to conciliate the affections of the people. His 
conduct was the exact reverse of that which his ancestors 
had so long and uniformly adopted, and was attended 
with the effects which might reasonably be expected from 
a dereliction of those maxims that had raised them to 
the honourable distinction which they had so long en- 
joyed. 

A few poetical compositions of Piero de’ Medici, pre¬ 
served in the Laurentian Library, though not hitherto 
printed, place his character in a more favourable point of 
view, and exhibit his filial affection and his attachment to 
his native place in a very interesting light . 43 Of this the 
following sonnet may be a sufficient proof: 

SONETTO. 

’Sendo io national, e di te nato, 

Muovati patria un poco il tuo figliuolo; 

Fingiti almen pietosa del suo duolo, 

Essendo in te nudrito ed allevato. 

Ha ciaschedun del nascimento il fato, 

Come 1’ uccello il suo garrire e volo; 

Scusemi almen in cio non esser solo, 

Benche solo al mio male io pur sia stato. 

They consist of twenty-one sonnets, which are found at the close of a manu¬ 
script volume of the poems of his father Lorenzo, (Plut. xli. Cod. xxxviii. No. 3.). 
Besides which Valerianus informs us, that he translated from Plutarch a treatise on 
conjugal love (Valer. de Lit. Infel. lib. ii.) ; but this performance has probably 
perished, there being no copy of it now to be found in the Laurentian Library. 


1498.] 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


379 


Et se puo nulla in te mio antico affetto, 
Per quella pieta che ’n te pur regna 
Non mi sia questo dono da te disdetto: 
—Ch’ almen in cener nella patria io vegna, 
A riposar col padre mio diletto, 

Che gia ti fe si gloriosa e degna. 


Thy offspring, Florence, nurtured at thy breast, 
Ah! let me yet thy kind indulgence prove; 

Or if thou own no more a parent’s love, 

Thy pity sure may soothe my woes to rest. 

Fate marks to each his lot: the same behest 

That taught the bird through fields of air to rove, 
And tunes his song, my vital tissue wove 
Of grief and care, with darkest hues imprest. 
But if, my fondness scorn’d, my prayer denied, 
Death only bring the period of my woes, 

Yet one dear hope shall mitigate my doom. 

—If then my father’s name was once thy pride, 

Let my cold ashes find at last repose, 

Safe in the shelter of his honour’d tomb. 


Of the many ties by which Lorenzo had endeavoured to 
secure the prosperity of his family amidst the storms Giovanni 
of fortune, and the ebbs and flows of popular opi- de ’ Medici - 
nion, one only now remained,—that by which he had con¬ 
nected it with the church; but this alone proved sufficient 
for the purpose, and shews that in this, as in every in¬ 
stance, his conduct was directed by motives of the soundest 
policy. After the expulsion of the family from Florence, 
the cardinal Giovanni de’ Medici, finding that the endea¬ 
vours of himself and his brothers to effect their restoration 
were more likely to exasperate the Florentines than to pro¬ 
mote that desirable event, desisted from any further at¬ 
tempts, and determined to wait with patience for a more 
favourable opportunity. He therefore quitted Italy, and 
whilst that country was the theatre of treachery and war, 
visited many parts of France and Germany. His dislike to 
Alexander VI., who had entered into an alliance with the 
Florentines, and was consequently adverse to the views of 
the exiles, was an additional motive for his absence. After 
the death of Alexander in the year 1503, he returned to 
Rome, and found in Julius II. a pontiff more just to his 
talents, and more favourable to his hopes. From this time 
he began to take an important part in the public affairs of 



380 THE LIFE OF [CH. X. 

Italy, and was appointed legate in the war carried on by 
the pope, the Venetians, and the king of Spain, against 
Louis XII. Whilst invested with this dignity, he was taken 
prisoner by the French, in the famous battle of Ravenna, 
but soon afterwards found an opportunity of effecting his 
escape, not however without great danger and difficulty. 
In the mean time new dissensions had sprung up at Flo¬ 
rence, where the inhabitants, wearied with the fluctuations 
of a government whose maxims and conduct were changed 
in the same rapid succession as its chief magistrates, were 
at length obliged to seek for a greater degree of stability, 
by electing a Gonfaloniere for life. This authority was in¬ 
trusted to Piero Soderini, who, with more integrity than 
ability, exercised it for nearly ten years. His contracted 
views suited not with the circumstances of the times. The 
principal governments of Italy, with Julius at their head, 
had leagued together to free that country from the depre¬ 
dations of the French. Fearful of exciting the restless dis¬ 
positions of the Florentines, and perhaps of endangering 
the continuance of his power, the Gonfaloniere kept aloof 
from a cause, on the success of which depended the tran¬ 
quillity and independence of Italy. His reluctance to take 
an active part in the war was construed into a secret par¬ 
tiality to the interests of the French; and, whilst it ren¬ 
dered him odious to a great part of the citizens of Florence, 
drew upon him the resentment of the allied powers. The 
victory obtained by the French at Ravenna, dearly pur¬ 
chased with the death of the gallant Gaston de Foix, and 
the loss of near ten thousand men, proved the destruction 
of their enterprise; and as the cause of the French declined, 
that of the Medici gained ground, as well in Florence, as in 
the rest of Italy. The prudence and moderation of the 
cardinal enabled him to avail himself of these favourable 
dispositions without prematurely anticipating the conse¬ 
quences. During his residence at Rome he had paid a 
marked attention to the citizens of Florence who occasion¬ 
ally resorted there, without making any apparent distinction 
between those who had espoused and those who had been 
adverse to the cause of his family; and by his affability and 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


381 


1513.] 

hospitality, as well as by his attention to the interests of 
those who stood in need of his services, secured the esteem 
and good opinion of his fellow-citizens. Having thus pre¬ 
pared the way for his success, he took the earliest oppor¬ 
tunity of turning the arms of the allied powers against 
Florence, for the avowed purpose of removing Piero Sode- 
rini from his office, and restoring the Medici to their rights 
as citizens. On the part of Soderini little resistance was 
made. The allies having succeeded in an attack upon the 
town of Prato, and the friends of the Medici having openly 
opposed the authority of Soderini, the tide of po- Restoration 
pular favour once more turned; and whilst the °{ ici th t l 
Gonfaloniere with difficulty effected his escape, the rence * 
cardinal made his entrance into his native place, accompa¬ 
nied by his younger brother Giuliano, his nephew Lorenzo, 
and his cousin Giulio de’ Medici, the latter of whom had 
been his constant attendant during all the events of his 
public life. 44 

The restoration of the Medici, although effected by an 
armed force, was not disgraced by the bloodshed of any of 
the citizens, and a few only of their avowed enemies were 
ordered to absent themselves from Florence. Scarcely was 
the tranquillity of the place restored, when intelligence was 
received of the death of Julius II. The cardinal lost no 
time in repairing to Rome, where, on the 11th day Elevation 
of March, 1513, being then only thirty-seven years of Leo x - 
of age, he was elected supreme head of the church, and as¬ 
sumed the name of Leo X. The high reputation which he 
had acquired not only counterbalanced any objections arising 
from his youth, but rendered his election a subject of ge¬ 
neral satisfaction ; and the inhabitants of Florence, without 
adverting to the consequences, exulted in an event which 
seemed likely to contribute not less to the security than to 
the honour of their country. The commencement of his 
pontificate was distinguished by an act of clemency which 
seemed to realize the high expectations that had been 
formed of it. A general amnesty was published at Flo¬ 
rence, and the banished citizens restored to their country. 

44 Guicciardini, lib. x. Razzi vita di Piero Soderini. Padova, 1737, p. 70, &c. 


382 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

Piero Soderini, who had taken refuge in Turkey, was in¬ 
vited by the pope to Rome, where he resided many years 
under his protection, and enjoyed the society and respect of 
the prelates and other men of eminence who frequented the 
court, being distinguished, during the remainder of his life, 
by the honourable title of the Gonfaloniere.^ 

The elevation of Leo X. to the pontificate established the 
Leo promotes fortunes of the Medici on a permanent foundation, 
his relations. Naturally munificent to all, Leo was lavish in be¬ 
stowing upon the different branches of his own family the 
highest honours and most lucrative preferments of the 
church. Giulio de’ Medici was created archbishop of Flo¬ 
rence, and was soon afterwards admitted into the sacred 
college, where he acquired such influence, as to secure the 
pontifical chair, in which he succeeded Adrian VI. who 
filled it only ten months after the death of Leo. The 
daughters of Lorenzo, Maddalena the wife of Francesco 
Cibo, Contessina the wife of Piero Ridolfi, and Lucrezia 
the wife of Giacopo Salviati, gave no less than four car¬ 
dinals to the Romish church; there being two of the 
family of Salviati, and one of each of the others. Profit¬ 
ing by the examples of his predecessors, Leo lost no op¬ 
portunity of aggrandizing his relations, well knowing that, 
in order to secure to them any lasting benefit, it was 
necessary that they should be powerful enough to defend 
themselves, after his death, from the rapacious aims of suc¬ 
ceeding pontiff's, who, he was well aware, would probably 
pay as little regard to his family as he had himself, in 
some instances, paid to the friends and families of his 
predecessors. 46 

45 Razzi vita di Piero Soderini, p. 85. 

46 Notwithstanding his precautions, Leo could not, on all occasions, preserve 
his surviving relations from the insults and injuries of his successors. Paul III. 
Alessandro Farnese, had in his youth been particularly favoured by Lorenzo de' 
Medici, who, in a letter which yet remains from him to Lanfredini, his envoy at 
Rome, thus expresses himself respecting him: “ Vi lo raccommandiate quanto farei 
Pietro mio figlio; e vi prego lo introduciate e lo raccommandiate caldissimamente a 
N. S. (il papa) che non potreste farmi maggior piacere,” &c. Yet, when the same 
Alessandro had arrived at the pontificate, he so far forgot or disregarded his early 
obligations, as forcibly to dispossess Lucrezia, the daughter of his benefactor, then 
in a very advanced age, of her residence in Rome to make way for one of his 
nephews. This incident is related by Varchi with proper indignation. Storia 
Fiorentina, lib. xvi. p. 666. 


1513 .] LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 383 

The pontificate of Leo X. is celebrated as one of the 
most prosperous in the annals of the Romish church. Restores his 
At the time when he assumed the chair, the cala- dominions to 
mities of Italy were at their highest pitch; that peace ' 
country being the theatre of a war, in which not only all 
its governments were engaged, but which was rendered yet 
more sanguinary by the introduction of the French, Helve¬ 
tian, and Spanish troops. A council, which had long esta¬ 
blished itself at Pisa, under the influence and protection of 
the king of France, thwarted the measures, and at times 
overawed the authority of the holy see; and, in addition to 
all her other distresses, Italy laboured under great appre¬ 
hensions from the Turks, who constantly threatened a de¬ 
scent on that unhappy country. The address and perse¬ 
verance of Leo surmounted the difficulties which he had to 
encounter; and during his pontificate the papal dominions 
enjoyed a greater degree of tranquillity than any other state 
in Italy. In his relations with foreign powers, his conduct 
is no less entitled to approbation. During the contests 
that took place between those powerful monarchs, Charles V. 
and Francis I., he distinguished himself by his moderation, 
his vigilance, and his political address; on which account 
he is justly celebrated by an eminent historian of our own 
country, as “ the only prince of the age who observed the 
motions of the two contending monarchs with a prudent 
attention, or who discovered a proper solicitude for the 
public safety.” 47 

Leo was not however aware, that whilst he was com¬ 
posing the troubles which the ambition of his Rise of the 
neighbours, or the misconduct of his predecessors, Reformation - 
had occasioned, he was exciting a still more formidable ad¬ 
versary, that was destined, by a slow but certain progress, to 
sap the foundations of the papal power, and to alienate that 
spiritual allegiance which the Christian world had kept in¬ 
violate for so many centuries. Under the control of Leo, 
the riches that flowed from every part of Europe to Rome, 
as to the heart of the ecclesiastical system, were again 
poured out through a thousand channels, till the sources 

47 Robertson, Hist, of Charles V. book i. 


384 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

became inadequate to the expenditure. To supply this 
deficiency, he availed himself of various expedients, which, 
whilst they effected for a time the intended purpose, roused 
the attention of the people to the enormities and abuses of 
the church, and in some measure drew aside that sacred 
veil, which in shrouding her from the prying eyes of the 
vulgar, has always been her safest preservative. The open 
sale of dispensations and indulgences, for the most enormous 
and disgraceful crimes, was too flagrant not to attract 
general notice. Encouraged by the dissatisfaction which 
was thus excited, a daring reformer arose, and, equally 
regardless of the threats of secular power, and the denunci¬ 
ations of the Roman see, ventured to oppose the opinion of 
an individual to the infallible determinations of the church. 
At this critical juncture, Luther found that support which 
he might in vain have sought at any other period, and an 
inroad was made into the sanctuary, which has ever since 
been widening, and will probably continue to widen, till the 
mighty fabric, the work of so many ages, shall be laid in 
ruins . 48 It is not however so much for the tenets of 
their religious creed, as for the principles upon which they 
founded their dissent, that the reformers are entitled to the 
thanks of posterity. That right of private judgment which 
they claimed for themselves, they could not refuse to others; 
and by a mode of reasoning as simple as it was decisive, 
mankind arrived at the knowledge of one of those great 
truths which form the basis of human happiness. It ap¬ 
peared that the denunciations of the church were as ineffec¬ 
tual to condemn, as its absolution was to exculpate; and, 
instead of an intercourse between the man and his priest, 
an intercourse took place between his conscience and his 
God. 

But turning from the advantages which the world has 
Age of Leo X. derived from the errors of Leo X., we may be 

48 The causes and progress of the Reformation are traced by Dr. Robertson, in his 
History of Charles V. book ii. in a manner that would almost render any further 
elucidation unnecessary, even if it were more intimately connected with my subject. 
This celebrated historian has taken occasion to refute an assertion made by Guicciar¬ 
dini, and, after him, by Fr. Paolo, that Leo X. bestowed the profits arising from the 
sale of indulgences in Saxony, upon his sister Maddalena, the wife of Francesco Cibo. 
Guicciardini lib. xiii. Sarpi, cap. i. Robertson, Charles V. book ii. in note. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


385 


1492 .] 

allowed for a moment to inquire what it owes to his ta¬ 
lents and to his virtues. No sooner was he raised to the 
papal chair, than Rome assumed once more its ancient 
character, and became the seat of genius, magnificence, 
letters, and arts. One of the first acts of his pontificate 
was to invite to his court two of the most elegant Latin 
scholars that modem times have produced, Pietro Bembo 
and Giacopo Sadoleti; whom he appointed his pontifical 
secretaries. The most celebrated professors of literature, 
from every part of Europe, were induced by liberal pensions 
to fix their residence at Rome, where a permanent establish¬ 
ment was formed for the study of the Greek tongue, under 
the direction of Giovanni Lascar. The affability, the muni¬ 
ficence, the judgment, and the taste of this splendid pontiff*, 
are celebrated by a considerable number of learned men, 
who witnessed his accomplishments, or partook of his 
bounty. Succeeding times have been equally disposed to 
do justice to so eminent a patron of letters, and have consi¬ 
dered the age of Leo X. as rivalling that of Augustus. Leo 
has not however escaped the reproach of having been too 
lavish of his favours to authors of inferior talents, and of 
having expended in pompous spectacles, and theatrical 
representations, that wealth which ought to have been 
devoted to better purposes . 49 But shall we condemn his 
conduct, if those who had no claims on his justice, were 
the objects of his bounty? or may it not be doubted 
whether this disposition was not more favourable to the 
promotion of letters, than a course of conduct more discri¬ 
minating and severe? Whatever kindness he might shew 
to those who endeavoured to amuse his leisure by their 
levity, their singularity, or their buffoonery, no instances 
can be produced of his having rewarded them by such dis¬ 
tinguished favours as he constantly bestowed on real merit; 
and whilst we discover amongst those who shared his friend¬ 
ship and partook of his highest bounty, the names of Bembo, 
Vida, Ariosto, Sadoleti, Casa, and Elaminio, we may readily 
excuse the effects of that superabundant kindness which 


49 Tiraboschi, vol. viii. part vi. p. 19. Andres, vol. i. p. 380. 

25 


386 THE LIFE OF [CH. X. 

rather marked the excess of his liberality than the imperfec¬ 
tion of his judgment. 

In the attention paid by Leo X. to the collecting and 
The Lauren- preserving ancient manuscripts, and other memo- 
tian Library rials of literature, he emulated the example of his 
restorec. a nd by his perseverance and liberality, at 

length succeeded in restoring to its former splendour the 
celebrated library which, on the expulsion of Piero de’ 
Medici, had become a prey to the fury or the rapacity of 
the populace. Such of these valuable articles as had 
escaped the sacrilegious hands of the plunderers, had been 
seized upon for the use of the Florentine state; but in the 
year 1496, the public treasury being exhausted, and the 
city reduced to great extremity, the magistrates were under 
the necessity of selling them to the monks of the fraternity 
of S. Marco, for the sum of three thousand ducats. 50 Whilst 
these valuable works were deposited at the convent, they 
experienced a less public but perhaps a more destructive 
calamity, many of them having been distributed as presents 
by Savonarola, the principal of the monastery, to the cardi¬ 
nals, and other eminent men, by whose favour he sought 
to shelter himself from the resentment of the pope. 51 
When the Florentines destroyed their golden calf, and the 
wretched priest expiated by his death his folly and his 
crimes, apprehensions were entertained that the library 
of the Medici would once more be exposed to the rapacity 
of the people; but some of the youth of the noblest families 
of Florence, with a laudable zeal for the preservation of this 
monument of their national glory, associated themselves 
together, and undertook to guard it till the frenzy of the 
populace had again subsided. After the death of Savonarola, 
the fraternity having fallen into discredit, and being in their 
turn obliged to sell the library, it was purchased from them 
by Leo X., then cardinal de’ Medici, and in the year 1508 
was removed by him to Rome, where it continued during 
his life, and received constant additions of the most rare 
and valuable manuscripts. From Leo it devolved to his 


50 Mehus. Amb. Travers. Vita, p. 72 in praef. 61 Tiraboschi, vol.vi. parti, p. 106. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


387 


1508.] 

cousin Clement VII., who, upon his elevation to the 
pontificate, again transferred it to Florence, and by a bull, 
which bears date the 15th day of December, 1532, provided 
for its future security. Not satisfied, however, with this 
precaution, he meditated a more substantial defence, and, 
with a munificence which confers honour on his pontificate, 
engaged Michelagnolo to form the design of the splendid 
edifice in which this library is now deposited, which was 
afterwards finished, under the directions of the same artist, 
by his friend and scholar Vasari. 

Giuliano de’ Medici, the third son of Lorenzo, was more 
distinguished by his attention to the cause of lite- Giuliano de . 
rature, and by his mild and affable disposition, Medici <iuke 
than by his talents for political affairs. On the of Nemours - 
return of the family to Florence, he had been intrusted by 
his brother, then the cardinal de’ Medici, with the direction 
of the Florentine state; but it soon appeared that he had 
not sufficient energy to control the jarring dispositions of 
the Florentines. He therefore resigned his authority to 
Lorenzo, the son of his brother, Piero de’ Medici, and on 
the elevation of Leo X. took up his residence at Rome; 
where, under the title of captain-general of the church, he 
held the chief command of the papal troops. By the favour 
of the pope he soon afterwards obtained extensive posses¬ 
sions in Lombardy, and having intermarried with Filiberta, 
sister of Charles duke of Savoy, and a descendant of the 
house of Bourbon, was honoured by Francis I. with the 
title of duke of Nemours. Of his gratitude, an instance is 
recorded which it would be unjust to his memory to omit. 
During his exile from Florence, he had found a hospitable 
asylum with Guid’ubaldo di Montefeltro, duke of Urbino, 
who on his death left his dominions to his adopted son, 
Francesco Maria delle Rovere. Incited by the entreaties of 
his nephew Lorenzo, Leo X. formed the design of depriving 
Rovere of his possessions, under the usual pretext of their 
having escheated to the church for want of legitimate heirs, 
and of vesting them in Lorenzo, with the title of duke of 
Urbino; but the representations of Giuliano prevented for 
a time the execution of his purpose; and it was not till 


388 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

after his death that Leo disgraced his pontificate by this 
signal instance of ecclesiastical rapacity. If we may give 
credit to Ammirato, Giuliano at one time entertained the 
ambitions hope of obtaining the crown of Naples ; 52 but if 
such a design was in contemplation, it is probable that he 
was incited by his more enterprising and ambitious brother, 
who perhaps sought to revive the claims of the papal see 
upon a kingdom, to the government of which Giuliano 
could, in his own right, advance no pretensions. As a 
patron of learning, he supported the ancient dignity of his 
family. He is introduced to great advantage in the cele¬ 
brated dialogue of Bembo on the Italian tongue , 53 and in 
the yet more distinguished work of Castiglione, entitled 
“ II libro del Cortegiano.” 54 In the Laurentian library 
several of his sonnets are yet preserved ; 55 and some speci¬ 
mens of his composition are adduced by Crescimbeni, which, 
if they display not any extraordinary spirit of poetry, suffi¬ 
ciently prove, that, to a correct judgment, he united an 
elegant taste . 56 

Naturally of an infirm constitution, Giuliano did not long 
enjoy his honours. Binding his health on the decline, he 
removed to the monastery at Eiesole, in the expectation of 
deriving advantage from his native air; but his hopes were 

52 Ammir. 1st. Fior. lib. xxix. vol. iii. p. 315. 

53 « p r ose di M. Pietro Bembo, nelle quali si ragiona della volgar lingua dedi¬ 
cated to the cardinal Giulio de’ Medici, afterwards Clement VII., first printed at 
Venice by Giovan Tacuino, nel mese di Settembre del mdxxv. cum privilegio di Papa 
Clemente, &c. 

54 “ In Venetia nelle case d’ Aldo Romano, e d’ Andrea d’ Asola suo suocero, nelP 
anno mdxxviit. del mese d’ Aprile,” in fol. This work has frequently been re¬ 
printed under the more concise title of “ II Cortegiano,” by which it is also cited in 
the “ Biblioteca I tali ana” of Fontanini; but Apostolo Zeno, pleased with every oppor¬ 
tunity of reproving the author whom he has undertaken to comment upon, shrewdly 
observes, in his notes on that work, “ Altro e il dire semplicemente, * II Cortegiano,’ 
come il Fontanini vorrebbe; e altro, ‘ II libro del Cortegiano,’ come il Castiglione ha 
voluto dire, e lo ha detto; la prima maniera indicherebbe di voler descrivere ‘ Il Cor¬ 
tegiano’ per quello che e ; e la seconda dinota di volergli insegnare qual esser deve.” 
Zeno, in not. alia Bib. Ital. di Fontan., vol. ii. p. 353. 

55 Plut. xlvi. Cod. xxv. No. 3. Another copy of his poems remains in MS. in the 
Strozzi Library at Florence. 

56 Crescimbini, vol. iii. p. 338. Where the author confounds Giuliano, the son of 
Lorenzo de’ Medici, with Giuliano his brother, who lost his life in the conspiracy of 
the Pazzi; and even cites the authority of Politiano, “ Che i versi volgari di lui erano 
a maraviglia gravi, e pieni di nohili sentimenti,” as referring to the writings of the 
younger Giuliano, although such opinion was expressed by Politiano respecting the 
works of Giuliano. the brother of Lorenzo, before Giuliano, his son, was born. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


389 


1516. J 

frustrated, and he died there in the month of March, 1516, 
not having then fully completed his thirty-seventh year. 
His death was sincerely lamented by a great majority of the 
citizens of Florence, whose favour he had conciliated in a 
high degree by his affability, moderation, and an inviolable 
regard to his promises. 57 His tomb, in the sacristy of the 
church of S. Lorenzo at Florence, one of the most successful 
efforts of the genius of Michelagnolo, may compensate him 
for the want of that higher degree of reputation which he 
might have acquired in a longer life. His statue, seated, 
and in a Roman military habit, may be considered rather 
as characteristic of his office, as general of the church, than 
of his exploits. The figures which recline on each side of 
the sarcophagus, and are intended to represent day and 
night, have been the admiration of succeeding artists; but 
their allegorical purport may admit of a latitude of inter¬ 
pretation. Had the conquests of Giuliano rivalled those of 
Alexander the Great, we might have conjectured, with 
Vasari, that the artist meant to express the extent of his 
glory, limited only by the confines of the earth; 58 but the 
hyperbole would be too extravagant; and the judicious 
spectator will perhaps rather regard them as emblematical 


57 Ariosto has addressed a beautiful canzone to Filiberta of Savoy, the widow of 
Giuliano, commencing, “ Anima eletta, che nel mondo folle,” in which the shade of 
the departed husband apostrophizes his surviving wife. The following lines, referring 
to Lorenzo the Magnificent, may serve to shew the high veneration in which the poet 
held his memory: 

“ Questo sopra ogni lume in te risplende, 

Se ben quel tempo che si ratto corse, 

Tenesti di Nemorse 

Meco scettro ducal di la da’ monti; 

Se ben tua bella mano freno torse, 

A1 paese gentil che Appenin fende, 

E V alpe e il mar difende: 

Ne tanto val, che a questo pregio monti, 

Che ’1 sacro onor de 1' erudite fronti, 

Quel Tosco e’ n terra e ’n cielo amato Lauro, 

Socer ti fu, le cui mediche fronde 
Spesso a le piaghe, donde 
Italia mori poi, furo ristauro : 

Che fece al Indo e al Mauro, 

Sentir 1’ odor de suoi rami soavi; 

Onde pendean le chiavi 

Che tenean chiuso il tempio de la guerre, 

Che poi fu aperto, e non e piu chi’l serre.” 

58 Vasari, Vita di M. A. Buonarotti. 


THE LI EE OF 


390 


[CH. X. 


of the constant change of sublunary affairs, and the brevity 
of human life. 

By his wife Filiberta of Savoy, Giuliano de’ Medici left 

ippoiito no children; but, before his marriage, he had a 
de* Medici, neural son, who became an acknowledged branch 
of the family of the Medici, and, like the rest of his kin¬ 
dred, acquired, within the limits of a short life, a consider¬ 
able share of reputation. This was the celebrated Ippoiito 
de’ Medici, who, dignified with the rank of cardinal, and 
possessed, by the partiality of Clement VII. of an immense 
revenue, was at once the patron, the companion, and the 
rival of all the poets, the musicians, and the wits of his 
time. Without territories, and without subjects, Ippoiito 
maintained at Bologna a court far more splendid than that 
of any Italian potentate. His associates and attendants, all 
of whom could boast of some peculiar merit or distinction 
which had entitled them to his notice, generally formed a 
body of about three hundred persons. Shocked at his pro¬ 
fusion, which only the revenues of the church were compe¬ 
tent to supply, Clement VII. is said to have engaged the 
maestro di casa of Ippoiito to remonstrate with him on his 
conduct, and to request that he would dismiss some of his 
attendants as unnecessary to him. “No,” replied Ippoiito, 
“ I do not retain them in my court because I have occasion 
for their services, but because they have occasion for mine .” 59 
His translation of the second book of the iEneid into Italian 
blank verse is considered as one of the happiest efforts of 
the language, and has frequently been reprinted . 60 Amongst 
the collections of Italian poetry may also be found some pieces 
of his own composition, which do credit to his talents . 61 


59 Tiraboschi, vol. vii. par. i. p. 23. 

60 The first edition is that of Rome, apud Antonium Bladum, 1538, without the 
name of the author, who, at the foot of his dedication to a lady, whom he designates 
only by the appellation of Illustrissima Signora, assumes the title of II cavaliero 
Errante. The second edition is entitled “ II secondo di Vergilio in lingua volgare 
volto da Hippolito de’ Medici, Cardinale.” At the close we read, “ In citta di Castello 
per Antonio Mazochi Cremonese, et Niccolo de Guccii da Corna, ad instantia di 
M. Giovan Gallo Dottor de leggi da Costello nel Giorno 20 de Luglio, 1539.” Several 
subsequent editions have appeared, as well separately as united with the other hooks 
of the iEneid, translated by different persons. 

61 Some of them are cited by Crescimbeni, “ Della volgar Poesia,” lib. ii. vol. ii. 
p. 308. 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


391 


1518.] 

On the voluntary resignation by Giuliano de’ Medici of the 
direction of the Florentine state, that important trust had 
been confided by Leo X. to his nephew Lorenzo, who, with 
the assistance of the cardinal Giulio de 5 Medici, directed 
the helm of government according to the will of the pope ; 
but the honour of holding the chief rank in the republic, 
although it had gratified the just ambition of his illustrious 
grandfather, was inadequate to the pretensions of Lorenzo; 
and the family of Rovere, after a vigorous defence, in which 
Lorenzo received a wound which had nearly proved mortal, 
was obliged to relinquish to him the sovereignty of Urbino, 
of which he received from the pope the ducal investiture in 
the year of 1516. 62 After the death of his uncle Giuliano, 
he was appointed captain-general of the papal troops, but his 
reputation for military skill scarcely stands higher than that 
of his predecessor. In the year 1518, he married Magdeleine 
de Boulogne, of the royal house of France, and the sole fruit 
of this union was Catherine de’ Medici, afterwards the 
queen of Henry II. 63 The birth of the daughter cost the 
mother her hfe; and her husband survived her only a few 
days, having, if we may credit Ammirato, fallen a victim to 
that loathsome disorder, the peculiar scourge of licentiousness, 
which had then recently commenced its ravages in Europe. 64 

62 Nerli Comment, lib. vi. p. 130. 

63 “ Si, comme les poetes l’ont dit, l’ancienne Hecube, avant de mettre Paris au 
monde, etait troublee par des songes effrayans, quels noirs fantomes devaient agiter 
les nuits de Magdeleine de la Tour, enceinte de Catherine de Medicis ?” Tenh. Mem. 
Gen. liv. xx. p. 5. 

64 Ammir. 1st. Fior. lib. xxix. vol. ii. p. 335. This disorder, which was first known 
in Italy about the year 1495, was not, in its commencement, supposed to be the result 
of sexual intercourse, but was attributed to the impure state of the air, to the simple 
touch or breath of a disordered person, or even to the use of an infected knife. Hence 
for a considerable time no discredit attached to the patient; and the authors of that 
period attribute, without hesitation, the death of many eminent persons, as well eccle¬ 
siastical as secular, to this complaint. In the Laurentian Library (Plut. lxxiii. cod. 38.) 
is a MS. entitled “ Saphati Physici de morbo Gallico fiber,” dedicated by the author, 
Giuliano Tanio, of Prato, to Leo X., in which he thus adverts to a learned professor, 
who was probably one of the first victims of this disease: “ Nos anno mccccxcv. ex¬ 
trema aestate, egregium utriusque juris doctorem Dominum Philippum Decium, Papi- 
ensem, in Florentino Gymnasio Prati, Pisis tunc rebellibus, pubfice legentem, hac 
labe effectum ipsi conspeximus.” From the same author we learn that the disorder 
was supposed to have originated in a long continuance of hot and moist weather, 
which occurred in the same year: “ Ex magna pluvia similis labes apparuit, ex quibus 
arguunt hunc nostrae aetatis morbum ex simili causa ortum esse, ex calida scilicet, 
liumidaque intemperie, quia ex pluvia scilicet anni mcccclxxxxv. nonis Decembris 
emissa, qua Roma facta est navigabilis, ac tota fere Italia inundationes passa est,” &c. 


392 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

His tomb, of the sculpture of Michelagnolo, is found amongst 
the splendid monuments of his family, in the church of 
S. Lorenzo at Florence. He appears seated in the attitude 
of deep meditation. At his feet recline two emblematical 
figures, the rivals of those which adorn the tomb of Giuliano, 
and which are intended to represent morning and evening. 
Ariosto has also celebrated his memory in some of his most 
beautiful verses. 65 Like the Egyptians, who embalm a 

These authorities are greatly strengthened by that of the illustrious Fracastoro, who 
was not only the best Latin poet, but the most eminent physician of his age, and who, 
in his “ Syphilis,” accounts for the disorder from similar causes. After adverting to 
the opinion that it had been brought into Europe from the western world, then lately 
discovered, he adds : 

“ Ac vero, si rite fidem observata merentur 
Non ita censendum: nec certe credere par est 
Esse peregrinam nobis, transque aequora vectam 
Contagem: quoniam in primis ostendere multos 
Possumus, attactu qui nullius, hanc tamen ipsam 
Sponte sua sensere luem, primique tulere. 

Praeterea, et tantum terrarum tempore parvo 
Contages non una simul potuisset obire.” 

It is remarkable also, that throughout the whole poem he has not considered this 
disease as the peculiar result of licentious intercourse. Even the shepherd, Syphilus, 
introduced as an instance of its effects, is represented as having derived it from the 
resentment, not of Venus, but of Phoebus, excited by the adoration paid by the shep¬ 
herds to Alcithous, and the neglect of his own altars ; or, in other words, to the too 
fervid state of the atmosphere. Had the disorder in its origin been accompanied by 
the idea of disgrace or criminality which attends it in modern times, the author of 
this poem would scarcely have denominated it, 

*• Infanda lues, quam nostra videtis 
Corpora depasci, quam nulli aut denique pauci 
Vitamus.” 

The poem of Fracastoro was first published in the year 1530, but an Italian poem 
on the same subject, by Niccolo Campana of Siena, was printed at that place in 1519, 
and again at Venice in 1537, entitled “ Lamento di quel Tribulato di Strascino Cam¬ 
pana Senese sopra el male incognito el quale tratta de la patientia et impatientia.” 
The style of this poem is extremely gross and ludicrous ; and the author, in the sup¬ 
posed excess of his sufferings, indulges himself in the most extravagant and profane 
ideas, as to the nature and origin of the complaint. At one time he supposes it to 
be the same disorder as that which God permitted Satan to inflict upon Job : 

“ Allor Sathan con tal mal pien di vitio 
Diede a Jobbe amarissimo supplitio.” 

Again, he asserts it to be the complaint of Simon the leper; 

“ Quando Cristo guari Simon lebbroso, 

Era di questo mal pessimo iniquo.” 

But on no occasion does he ascribe the rise of the disorder to the cause which, 
from the nature of his poem, might have been expected. I shall only observe, that 
the use of the grand mineral specific is expressly pointed out, in both these poems, 
as the only certain remedy. 

65 Such at least I conjecture to be the purport of his poem, which commences, 

‘‘ Nella stagion che’l bel tempo rimena, 

Di mia man posi un ramuscel di Lauro.” 

Rime del Ariosto, p. 25, ap. Giolito, 1557. 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


393 


1518.] 

putrid carcase with the richest odours, the artist and the 
poet too often lavish their divine incense on the most unde¬ 
serving of mankind. 

Prior to his marriage with Magdeleine of Boulogne, the 
duke of Urbino had an illegitimate son, named Alessandro 
Alessandro, in whose person was consummated de ’ Medici - 
the destruction of the liberties of Florence. It was com¬ 
monly supposed that Alessandro was the offspring of the 
duke by an African slave, at the time when he, with the 
rest of the family, were restored to Florence; and this 
opinion received confirmation from his thick lips, crisped 
hair, and dark complexion. But it is yet more probable 
that he was the son of Clement VII. Such at least was 
the information given to the historian Ammirato by the 
grand duke Cosmo I. at the time when he read to him the 
memoirs which he had prepared respecting his family; and 
the predilection of the pontiff for this equivocal descendant 
of the house of Medici adds probability to the report. 66 
But whatever was his origin, the circumstances of the times 
and the ambition of those who protected his infancy, com¬ 
pensated for the disadvantages of his birth, and his want of 
inherent merit. On failure of the legitimate branch of 
Cosmo de’ Medici, usually styled the father of his country, 
derived through Lorenzo the Magnificent, Alessandro and 
Ippolito became necessary implements in the hands of 
Clement VII. to prevent the credit and authority of the 
family from passing to the collateral branch, derived from 
Lorenzo the brother of Cosmo, which had gradually risen 
to great distinction in the state, and of which it will now 
be necessary to give a brief account. 

Pierfrancesco de’ Medici, the son of the elder Lorenzo, 
to whom we have before had occasion to advert, 67 Descendants 
died in the year 1459, having bequeathed his im- *£££? 
mense possessions, obtained from his share in the the brother 
profits acquired by the extensive traffic of the ofCosmo 
family, to his two sons, Lorenzo and Giovanni. Following 
the example of their father, and emulous rather of wealth 


66 Ammir. 1st. Fior. lib. xxx. vol. iii. p. 335. 


67 Vide ante, p. 86. 


394 THE LIFE OF [dT. X. 

than of honours, the sons of Pierfrancesco had for several 
years confined themselves to the limits of a private con¬ 
dition, although they had occasionally filled the chief offices 
of the republic, in common with other respectable citizens. 
On the expulsion of Piero, the son of Lorenzo the Magnifi¬ 
cent, from Florence, in the year 1494, they endeavoured to 
avail themselves of his misconduct, and of the importance 
which they had gradually acquired, to aspire to the chief 
direction of the republic, and divesting themselves of the 
invidious name of Medici, assumed that of Popolani. The 
restoration of the descendants of Lorenzo the Magnificent 
to Florence, the elevation of his second son to the pontifi¬ 
cate, and the series of prosperity enjoyed by the family 
under his auspices, and under those of Clement VII. had 
repressed their ambition, or frustrated their hopes; and 
Lorenzo and Giovanni, the sons of Pierfrancesco, passed 
through life in a subordinate rank, the former of them 
leaving at his death a son, named Pierfrancesco, and the 
latter a son Giovanni, to inherit their immense wealth, and 
perpetuate the hereditary rivalship of the two families. 68 
But whilst the descendants of Cosmo, the father of his 
country, existed only in females, or in a spurious offspring, 
those of his brother Lorenzo continued in a legitimate suc¬ 
cession of males, and were invigorated with talents the 
most formidable to their rivals, and the most flattering to 
Giovanni their own hopes. Adopting from his youth a 
de> Medid. notary life, Giovanni de’ Medici became one of the 
most celebrated commanders that Italy had ever produced. 
By the appellation of captain of the bande nere , his name 
carried terror amongst his enemies. His courage was of 
the most ferocious kind. Equally insensible to pity and to 
danger, his opponents denominated him II gran Diavolo . 69 
As the fervour of youth subsided, the talents of the com¬ 
mander began to be developed; but in the midst of his 
honours his career was terminated by a cannon ball, in the 


68 Aid. Manucc. Vita di Cosmo, vol. i. p. 27. 

69 Varchi, Storia Fior. lib.ii. p. 25. Ed. Leyden. The mother of Giovanni was 
Caterina Sforza, the widow of Girolamo Riario, who, after the death of her husband, 
had married the elder Giovanni de’ Medici. Vide ante, p. 311. 


LORENZO DE ? MEDICI. 


395 


1518.] 

twenty-eighth year of his age. By his wife, Maria Salviati, 
the offspring of Lucrezia, one of the daughters of Lorenzo 
the Magnificent, he left a son, Cosmo de’ Medici, who, 
after the death of Alessandro, obtained the permanent 
sovereignty of Tuscany, and was the first who assumed the 
title of Grand Duke. 

The younger Pierfrancesco left also a son, named Lorenzo, 
who, as well on account of his diminutive person, Lorenz;™ 
as to distinguish him from others of his kindred of de ’ Medlci - 
the same name, was usually denominated Lorenzino , and 
who was destined with his own hand to terminate the con¬ 
test between the two families. Though small of stature, 
Lorenzino was active and well proportioned. His com¬ 
plexion was dark, his countenance serious: when he smiled 
it seemed to be by constraint. His mother, who was of 
the powerful family of Soderini, had carefully attended to 
his education ; and as his capacity was uncommonly quick, 
he made an early proficiency in polite letters. His elegant 
comedy entitled “ Aridosio,” still ranks with those works 
which are selected as models of the Italian language. 70 
Enterprising, restless, fond of commotions, and full of the 
examples of antiquity, he had addicted himself when young 
to the society of Eilippo Strozzi, who to an ardent love of 
liberty united an avowed contempt for all the political and 
religious institutions of his time. The talents and accom¬ 
plishments of Lorenzino recommended him to Clement VII. 
under whose countenance he resided for some time at the 
Roman court; but an extravagant adventure deprived him 
of the favour of the pope, and compelled him to quit the 
city. It appeared one morning, that, during the preceding 
night, the statues in the arch of Constantine, and in other 
parts of the city, had been broken and defaced; a circum¬ 
stance which so exasperated the pope, that he issued posi¬ 
tive orders that whoever had committed the outrage, except 

70 Crescimbeni informs us, that this comedy was written by Lorenzino, in versi 
vulgari, and printed at Bologna in 1548; and that it is also found in prose, printed 
at Lucca in the same year, and reprinted at Florence in 1595. (Della volgar Poesie, 
vol. v. p. 141.) Crescimbeni is however mistaken; the edition of Bologna, 1548, is 
now before me, and is wholly written in prose. That of Florence, 1595, is enume¬ 
rated by the academicians Della Crusca, as one of the Testi di Lingua. 


396 


THE LIFE OF 


[CH. X. 

it should appear to be the cardinal Ippolito de’ Medici, 
should be immediately hanged. 71 This exception indeed 
strongly implies that the cardinal was not free from sus¬ 
picion; but whoever was the delinquent, Lorenzino bore 
the whole odium of the affair; and it required all the influ¬ 
ence that Ippolito possessed with the pope to rescue his 
kinsman from the denunciations issued against the offender. 
Lorenzino gladly took the earliest opportunity of quitting 
the city, and retreated to his native place, where, transferring 
his resentment from the dead to the living, he soon afterwards 
acted a principal part in a much more important transaction. 72 

To the energy and activity of Lorenzino, and the courage 
Alessandro of Giovanni de’ Medici, Clement VII. could only 
sovereignty oppose the dissipation and inexperience of Ippolito 
of Florence. an d Alessandro; but the turbulent disposition of 
the Florentines seconded his views, and the premature death 
of Giovanni, whilst it exposed his dominions to the ravages 
of the German troops, relieved him from his apprehensions 
of his most dangerous rival. 73 Having prevailed on the 
emperor and the king of France to concur in his design, he 
seized the opportunity afforded him by the civil dissensions 
of the Florentines, and, in the year 1532, compelled them 
to place at the head of the government Alessandro de’ 
Medici, with the title of Doge of the Florentine republic. 74 
The authority of Alessandro was soon afterwards strength¬ 
ened by his marriage with Margaretta of Austria, a natural 

71 It has been suggested to me by the very respectable authority of Sir H. Englefield, 
that the heads of these statues and bas-rilievos were more probably stolen by Loren¬ 
zino for the sake of their beauty. It is well known that the sculpture for the arch of 
Constantine was collected from other buildings, mostly from the forum of Trajan; 
and it is said, that the heads thus purloined are yet extant in the museum at Florence. 

72 Varchi, Storia Fior. lib. xv. p. 618. 

75 The authority of the senator Nerli leaves no room for doubt on this head. Vide 
Nerli Comment, lib. vii. p. 145. 

74 Alessandro is generally styled by the Italian authors the first duke of Florence ; 
but in this they are not strictly accurate. His title of duke was derived from Citta, 
or Civita di Penna, and had been assumed by him several years before he obtained tbe 
direction of the Florentine state. It must also be observed, that Alessandro did not, 
as Robertson observes, “ enjoy the same absolute dominion as his family have retained 
to the present times,” (Hist. Charles V. book v.) he being only declared chief or prince 
of the republic, and his authority being in some measure counteracted or restrained 
by two councils chosen from the citizens, for life, one of which consisted of forty-eight, 
and the other of two hundred members. (Varchi, Storia Fior. p. 497. Nerli, Com. 
lib. xi. pp. 257, 264.) These distinctions are deserving of notice, as they serve to shew 
the gradual progress by which a free country is deprived of its liberties. 


LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 


397 


1518.] 

daughter of the emperor Charles V. The cardinal Ippolito, 
jealous of his success, had attempted to preoccupy the 
government; disappointed in his hopes, and disgusted with 
his ecclesiastical trappings, which ill suited the rapidity of 
his motions and the vivacity of his character, he united his 
efforts with those of Filippo Strozzi, who had married 
Clarice, the sister of Lorenzo, duke of Urbino, to deprive 
Alessandro of his new dignity; but before the arrangement 
could be made for the meditated attack, Ippolito suddenly 
died of poison, administered to him by one of his domes¬ 
tics, 75 leaving his competitor in the undisturbed possession 
of his newly acquired power. 

The period, however, now approached, which was to 
transfer the dominion of Florence from the de- Alessandro 
scendants of Lorenzo the Magnificent, to the kin- ^"2 
dred stock. In the secure possession of power, no - 
Alessandro knew no restraint. Devoted to the indulgence 
of an amorous passion, he sought its gratification among 
women of all descriptions, married and unmarried, religious 
and secular; insomuch that neither rank nor virtue could 
secure the favourite object from his licentious rapacity. 76 

75 The person who administered the poison was said to be Giovan-Andrea di Borgo 
San Sepolcro, the steward or bailiff of Ippolito, who was supposed to have effected this 
treachery at the instance of Alessandro ; and this suspicion received confirmation by 
his having escaped punishment, although he confessed the crime; and by his having 
afterwards been received at the court of Alessandro at Florence. Varchi, p. 566. 

76 Notwithstanding the dissolute character of Alessandro, it appears that he was 
possessed of strong natural sagacity, and, on some occasions, administered justice 
not only with impartiality but with ability. On this head Ammirato relates an 
anecdote which is worth repeating:—A rich old citizen of Bergamo had lent to one 
of his countrymen at Florence 400 crowns, which he advanced without any person 
being present, and without requiring a written acknowledgment. When the stipu¬ 
lated time had elapsed, the creditor required his money; but the borrower, well 
apprized that no proof could be brought against him, positively denied that he had 
ever received it. After many fruitless attempts to recover it, the lender was advised 
to resort to the duke, who would find some method of doing him justice. Alessandro 
accordingly ordered both the parties before him, and after hearing the assertions 
of the one and the positive denial of the other, he turned to the creditor, saying, 

“ Is it possible then, friend, that you can have lent your money when no one was 
present?"—“ There was no one indeed,” replied the creditor; “ I counted out the 
money to him on a post.”—“ Go, bring the post then this instant,” said the duke, 

“ and I will make it confess the truth.” The creditor, though astonished on re¬ 
ceiving such an order, hastened to obey, having first received a secret caution from 
the duke not to be very speedy in his return. In the mean time the duke employed 
himself in transacting the affairs of his other suitors; till at length turning again 
towards the borrower, “ This man,” says he, “ stays a long time with his post!”— 
“ It is so heavy, sir,” replied the other, “ that he could not yet have brought it!” 


398 THE LIFE OF [CH. X. 

The spirit of the Florentines, though sinking under the 
yoke of despotism, began to revolt at this more opprobrious 
species of tyranny, and the absentees and malecontents be¬ 
came daily more numerous and more respectable. But 
whilst the storm was gathering in a remote quarter, a blow 
from a kindred hand unexpectedly freed the Florentines 
from them oppressor, and afforded them once more an op¬ 
portunity of asserting that liberty to which their ancestors 
had been so long devoted. Lorenzino de’ Medici was the 
second Brutus who burst the bonds of consanguinity in the 
expectation of being the deliverer of his country. But the 
principle of political virtue was now extinct, and it was no 
longer a subject of doubt whether the Florentines should 
be enslaved; it only remained to be determined who should 
be the tyrant. On his return from Rome to Florence, 
Lorenzino had frequented the court of Alessandro, and, by 
his unwearied assiduity and singular accomplishments, had 
ingratiated himself with the duke to such a degree, as to 
become his chief confidant, and the associate of his licen¬ 
tious amours. But whilst Lorenzino accompanied him 
amidst these scenes of dissipation, he had formed the firm 
resolution of accomplishing his destruction, and sought only 
for a favourable opportunity of effecting his purpose. This 
idea seems to have occupied his wdiole soul, and influenced 
all his conduct. Even in the warmth of familiarity which 
apparently subsisted between them, he could not refrain 
from adverting to the design of which his mind was full, 
and by jests and insinuations gave earnest of his intention. 
Cellini relates, that on his attending the duke Alessandro 
with his portrait executed as a medal, he found him indis¬ 
posed and reclined on his bed, with Lorenzino as his com¬ 
panion. After boasting, as was his custom, of the wonders 
which he could perform in his profession, the artist con¬ 
cluded with expressing his hopes, that Lorenzino would 
favour him with a subject for an apposite reverse. “ That 

again Alessandro left him, and returning some time afterwards, carelessly exclaimed, 
“ What kind of men are they that lend their money without evidence ? was there 
no one present hut the post ?”—“ No indeed, sir!” replied the knave. “ The post 
is a good witness then,” said the duke, “ and shall make thee pay the man his money.” 
Ammir. Stor. Fior. lib. xxxi. vol. iii. p. 434. 


LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


399 


1518.] 

is exactly what I am thinking of,” replied Lorenzino, with 
great vivacity; “I hope ere long to furnish such a reverse 
as will be worthy of the duke, and will astonish the world. 77 
The blind confidence of Alessandro prevented his suspicions, 
and he turned on his bed with a contemptuous smile at the 
folly or the arrogance qf his relation. But whilst Lorenzino 
thus hazarded the destruction of his enterprise by the levity 
of his discourse, he prepared for its execution with the most 
scrupulous caution. 78 The duke having selected as the ob¬ 
ject of his passion the wife of Lionardo Ginori, then on a 
public embassy at Naples, Lorenzino, to whom she was 
nearly related, undertook with his usual assiduity to pro¬ 
mote the suit. Pretending that his representations had 
been successful, he prevailed upon the duke to pass the 
night with him at his own house, where he promised him 
the completion of his wishes. In the mean time he pre¬ 
pared a chamber for his reception; and having engaged as 
his assistant a man of desperate fortunes and character, 
called Scoroncocolo, waited with impatience for his arrival. 
At the appointed hour, the duke having left the palace in a 
mask, according to his custom when he was engaged in 
nocturnal adventures, came unobserved to the house of 
Lorenzino, and was received by him in the fatal chamber. 
After some familiar conversation, Lorenzino left him to 
repose on the bed, with promises of a speedy return. On 
his quitting the chamber, he stationed his coadjutor where 
he might be in readiness to assist him, in case he should 
fail in his first attempt, and, gently opening the door, ap¬ 
proached the bed, and inquired from the duke if he was 
asleep, at the same instant passing his sword through his 
body. On receiving the wound the duke sprang up and 
attempted to escape at the door; but, on a signal given by 
Lorenzino, he was attacked there by Scoroncocolo, who 
wounded him deeply in the face. Lorenzino then grappled 
with the duke, and throwing him on the bed, endeavoured 


77 Vita di Benvenuto Cellini, p. 222. 

78 The particulars of this transaction are related at great length by Varchi, who 
had his information from Lorenzino himself, after the perpetration of the deed. 
Storia Fior. lib. xv. 


400 THE LIFE OF [CH. X- 

to prevent his cries. In the struggle the duke seized the 
finger of Lorenzino in his mouth, and retained it with such 
violence, that Seoroncocolo, finding it impossible to separate 
them so as to despatch the duke without danger of wound¬ 
ing Lorenzino, deliberately took a knife from his pocket, 
and cut him across the throat. The completion of their 
purpose was however only the commencement of their dif¬ 
ficulties. Seoroncocolo, who probably knew not that the 
person he had assassinated was the duke, until the trans¬ 
action was over, was so terrified as to be wholly unable to 
judge for himself of the measures to be adopted for his own 
safety. To the active mind of Lorenzino various expedients 
presented themselves; and he hesitated for some time 
whether he should openly avow the deed, and call upon his 
countrymen to assert their liberties, or should endeavour to 
make his escape to the absentees, to whom the information 
which he had to communicate would give new energy, and 
a fair opportunity of success. Of these measures the last 
seemed, on many accounts, to be the most advisable. 
Having therefore locked the door of the chamber in which 
he left the dead body of the duke, he proceeded secretly to 
Bologna, expecting there to meet with Filippo Strozzi; but 
finding that he had quitted that place, he followed him to 
Venice, where he related to him his achievements. Filippo, 
well acquainted with the eccentricity of his character, re¬ 
fused for some time to credit his story, till Lorenzino, pro¬ 
ducing the key of the chamber, and exhibiting his hand, 
which had been mutilated in the contest, at length con¬ 
vinced him of its truth. The applause bestowed by Filippo 
and his adherents on Lorenzino was in proportion to the 
incredulity which they had before expressed. He was sa¬ 
luted as another Brutus, as the deliverer of his country; 
and Filippo immediately began to assemble his adherents, 
in order to avail himself of so favourable an opportunity of 
restoring to the citizens of Florence their ancient rights. 79 

79 On this occasion a medal was struck, bearing on one side the head of Lorenzino, 
and on the other the cap of liberty between two daggers; being the same device as 
that which had before been adopted by, or applied to, the younger Brutus. Vide 
Patin. Famil. Rom. p. 142. This medal is in the collection of the late earl of 
Orford. 


1518 .] LORENZO DE 5 MEDICI. 401 

The Italian historians have endeavoured to discover the 
motives that led Lorenzino to the perpetration of Motives and 
this deed, and have sought for them in the natural of^S^Tt- 
malignity of his disposition; as a proof of which 
he is said to have acknowledged, that during his residence 
at Rome, notwithstanding the kindness shewn to him by 
Clement VII., he often felt a strong inclination to murder 
him. They have also attributed them to a desire of immor¬ 
talizing his name by being considered as the deliverer of 
his country; to a principle of revenge for the insult which 
he received from the pope, in being banished from Rome, 
which he meant to repay in the person of Alessandro, his 
reputed son; and, lastly, to his enmity to the collateral 
branch of the Medici family, by which he was excluded 
from the chief dignity of the state. How far any of these 
conjectures may be well founded, it is not easy to deter¬ 
mine. Human conduct is often the result of impulses, 
which, whilst they arise in various directions, determine the 
mind towards the same object, and possibly all, or most of 
the causes before stated, might have concurred in producing 
so signal an effect. Aware of the misconstruction to which 
his principles were liable, Lorenzino wrote an apologetical 
discourse, which has been preserved to the present times, 
and throws considerable light on this singular transaction. 
In this piece he first attempts to demonstrate that Alessandro 
was an execrable tyrant, who, during the six years that he 
held the chief authority, had exceeded the enormities of 
Nero, of Caligula, and of Phalaris. He accuses him of 
having occasioned by poison the death, not only of the 
cardinal Ippolito, but of his own mother, who resided in an 
humble station at Collevecchio, and whose poverty he con¬ 
ceived was a reproach to the dignity of his rank; and denies 
that the blood of any branch of the Medici family flowed 
in his veins. He then justifies, with great plausibility, the 
conduct adopted by him after the death of the duke, in 
quitting the city to join the absentees; and after vindicating 
himself from the imputation of having been induced by any 
other motive than an earnest desire to liberate his country 
from a state of intolerable servitude, he concludes with 

26 


402 THE LIFE OF [CH. X. 

lamenting, that the want of energy and virtue in his fellow- 
citizens prevented them from availing themselves of the op¬ 
portunity which he had afforded them, of re-establishing 
their ancient government. But whatever were the motives 
of this deed, the consequences of it were such as have gene¬ 
rally been the result of similar attempts,—the riveting of 
those chains which it was intended to break. The natural 
abhorrence of treachery, and the sentiment of pity excited 
for the devoted object, counteract the intended purpose, 
and throw an odium even on the cause of liberty itself. 
No end can justify the sacrifice of a principle, nor was a 
crime ever necessary in the course of human affairs. The 
sudden burst of vindictive passion may sometimes occasion 
important changes in the fate of nations; but the event is 
seldom within the limits of human calculation. It is only 
the calm energy of reason, constantly bearing up against 
the encroachments of power, that can with certainty perpe¬ 
tuate the freedom, or promote the happiness of the human 
race. 

After the perpetration of this deed, Lorenzino, not con¬ 
ceiving himself in safety within the limits of Italy, continued 
his route till he arrived at Constantinople, from whence, 
after a short residence, he returned again to Venice. Having 
passed eleven years of exile and anxiety, he was himself 
assassinated by two Florentine soldiers, who, under the 
pretext of avenging the death of Alessandro, probably 
sought to ingratiate themselves with his successor, by re¬ 
moving a person who derived from his birth undoubted 
pretensions to the credit and authority which had for ages 
been attached to the chief of the house of Medici. 

The adherents of the ruling family, at the head of whom 
cosmode’ was cardinal Cibo, who had been the chief 
grand duke 1 m ™ s ^ er °f Alessandro, conducted themselves with 
sra " u e ’ great prudence on the death of the duke, and 
before they permitted the event to be made public, not 
only secured the soldiery within the city, but summoned 
to their assistance all their allies in the vicinity of the Flo¬ 
rentine state. They then assembled the inhabitants, avow¬ 
edly to deliberate on the state of the republic, but in fact 


LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


403 


1518.] 

rather to receive than to dictate a form of government. If 
Lorenzino was the Brutus of his age, an Octavius was found 
in his cousin, Cosmo de’ Medici, the son of Giovanni, gene¬ 
ral of the bande nere , and then about eighteen years of age. 
Being informed of the unexpected disposition of the citizens 
in his favour, Cosmo hastened from his seat at Mugello to 
Florence, where, on the 9th day of January, 1536, he was 
invested with the sovereignty by the more modest title 
of chief of the republic. Despotism generally proceeds 
with cautious steps; and Augustus and Cosmo affected 
the name of citizen, whilst they governed with absolute 
authority. 

To the election of Cosmo little opposition had been made 
within the city. The proposition of Pallas Rucellai Death of Fi _ 
to admit the party of the Strozzi to their delibe- ^°/ n t a r 1 oz e z x i ’ 
rations, and that of Giovanni Canigiani to plac e tinction of 
the supreme command in an illegitimate and infant the repubhc ' 
son of Alessandro, had met with few supporters. 80 But the 
numerous exiles, who by compulsion or in disgust, had 
quitted their native country during the government of 
Alessandro, had already begun to convene together from 
all parts of Italy, in hopes of effecting their restoration, 
and of establishing a form of government more consistent 
with their views. The cardinals Bidolfi and Salviati, both 
grandsons of Lorenzo the Magnificent, Bartolomeo Valori, 
and other citizens of high rank, uniting with Filippo Strozzi, 
raised a considerable body of troops, and approached to¬ 
wards the city; but more powerful parties had already 
interposed, and the fate of Florence no longer depended on 
the virtue or the courage of its inhabitants, but on the will 
of the emperor or on the precarious aid of the French. 
Sensible of the advantages which he had already obtained, 
by holding at his devotion the Florentine state, and that 
such influence was inconsistent with a republican govern¬ 
ment, Charles Y. openly approved of the election of Cosmo, 

80 Besides an illegitimate son named Giulio, Alessandro left two illegitimate daugh¬ 
ters, Porcia and Juliet. The son entered into the church, and became grand prior of 
the order of S. Stefano : Porcia took the veil, and founded the convent of S. Clement 
at Florence: Juliet married Francesco Cantelmo, son of the duke di Popoli, a Nea¬ 
politan nobleman Tenh. Mem. Gen. liv. xxii. p. 62. 


404 THE LIFE OF [dl. X. 

and directed his troops, then in Italy, to support his cause. 
The exiles having possessed themselves of the fortress of 
Montemurlo, in the vicinity of Florence, were unexpectedly 
attacked there by the Florentine troops under the command 
of Alessandro Vitelli, in the night of the 1st of August, 
1538, and their defeat fixed the destiny of their country. 
Bartolomeo Valori, with his two sons, and Filippo his 
nephew, were made prisoners, and conducted to Florence, 
where he, with one of his sons, and his nephew, were deca¬ 
pitated. Many others of the insurgents experienced a 
similar fate. The rest were consigned to the dungeons in 
different parts of Tuscany. Filippo Strozzi, the magnani¬ 
mous assertor of the liberties of his country, languished 
upwards of twelve months in the prisons of Castello, and 
his situation became more hopeless in proportion as the 
authority of Cosmo became more established. After an 
interval of time which ought to have obliterated the remem¬ 
brance of his offence, he was cruelly subjected to torture, 
under the pretext of discovering the accomplices of his 
unfortunate enterprise. Finding that the remonstrances of 
his friends with the emperor and the duke were not only 
ineffectual, but that the latter had resolved to expose his 
fortitude to a second trial, he called to his mind the ex¬ 
ample of Cato of Utica, and fell by his own hand, a devoted 
victim to the cause of freedom. 81 

Thus terminated the Florentine republic, which had sub- 
conciusion amidst the agitations of civil commotions, 

and the shock of external attacks, for upwards of 
three centuries, and had produced from its circumscribed 
territory a greater number of eminent men than any other 
country in Europe. This singular preeminence is chiefly to 
be attributed to the nature of its government, which called 
forth the talents of every rank of citizens, and admitted 
them without distinction to the chief offices of the state. 

81 The life of Filippo Strozzi was written by his brother Lorenzo, with great can¬ 
dour and impartiality, and is published at the close of the Florentine history of 
Benedetto Varchi. (Ed. Leyd. sine an.) After the death of Filippo, a paper in 
his own handwriting was found in his bosom, which is given in the Appendix, 
No. XLIV. 


1518.] LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 405 

But the splendour which the Florentines derived from 
examples of public virtue, and efforts of superlative genius, 
was frequently tarnished by the sanguinary contests of rival 
parties. The beneficent genius of Lorenzo de’ Medici for 
a time removed this reproach, and combined a state of high 
intellectual improvement with the tranquillity of well-ordered 
government. The various pursuits in which he himself 
engaged appear indeed to have been subservient only to 
the great purpose of humanizing and improving his coun¬ 
trymen. His premature death left the commonwealth 
without a pilot, and after a long series of agitation, the 
hapless wreck became a rich and unexpected prize to 
Cosmo de’ Medici. With Cosmo, who afterwards assumed 
the title of grand duke, commences a dynasty of sovereigns, 
which continued in an uninterrupted succession until the 
early part of the eighteenth century, when the sceptre of 
Tuscany passed from the imbecile hands of Gaston de’ 
Medici, into the stronger grasp of the family of Austria. 
During the government of Cosmo, the talents of the Flo¬ 
rentines, habituated to great exertions, but suddenly de¬ 
barred from further interference with the direction of the 
state, sought out new channels, and displayed themselves 
in works of genius and of art, which threw a lustre on the 
sovereign, and gave additional credit to the new establish¬ 
ment ; but as those who were born under the republic re¬ 
tired in the course of nature, the energies of the Florentines 
gradually declined. Under the equalizing hand of des¬ 
potism, whilst the diffusion of literature was promoted, the 
exertions of original genius were suppressed. The nume¬ 
rous and illustrious families, whose names had for ages 
been the glory of the republic, the Soderini, the Strozzi, 
the Ridolfi, the Ruccellai, the Valori, and the Capponi, 
who had negotiated with monarchs, and influenced by 
their personal characters the politics of Europe, sunk at 
once to the uniform level of subjects, and became the sub¬ 
ordinate and domestic officers of the ruling family. From 
this time the history of Florence is the history of the alli¬ 
ances, the negotiations, the virtues, or the vices, of its 
reigning prince; and even towards these the annals of the 


406 


LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


times furnish but scanty documents. The Florentine his¬ 
torians, as if unwilling to perpetuate the records of their 
subjugation, have almost invariably closed their labours 
with the fall of the republic; and the desire of information 
fortunately terminates at that period, when the materials 
for supplying it are not to be found. 



Medal of Niccolo Valori. 




POESIE 


DEL MAGNIFICO 

LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 


TRATTE DA TESTI A PENNA 


DELLA LIBRERIA MEDICEO-LAURENZIANA. 


A SUOI COMPATRIOTTI, 

AMATORI DELLA BELLA EAYELLA ITALIAN A, 

L’EDITORE. 

Nel darvi a leggere questi poemetti, che il mio caro amico, e concittadino, il 
Sig. Guglielmo Clarke, accuratamente trasse dagli originali esistenti nella 
Libreria Mediceo-Laurenziana, d’ altro non occorre awertirvi, se non, che per darvi 
un saggio della lingua Toscana, nel secolo del 1400, 1’ antica ortografia e stata, per 
quanto fu possibile, conservata. 


INDICE. 


AMBRA , FAVOLA.409 

LA CACCIA COL FALCONE.419 


ELEGIA. .... 
AMORI DI VENERE E MARTE. 

LA CONFESSIONE. 

LE SETTE ALLEGREZZE D’AMORE. 
CANZONE, Prenda Piata. 

CANZONE, Con tua promesse. 
CANZONE, Io prego Dio. 

CANZONE, I’ ho d’ amara dolcezza. 
SONETTO, Se come Giove. . 
SONETTO, Fugiendo Loth. . 
SONETTO, Segui anima divota. . 


429 

433 

436 

437 

440 
ib. 

441 

442 

443 
ib. 

444 



A M B R A. 


FAVOLA. 

Eugita e la stagion, ch’ avea conversi 
E fiori in ponii gia maturi, e colti; 

In ramo piu non puo foglia tenersi, 

Ma sparte per li boschi assai men folti 
Si fan sentir, se avvien che gli attraversi 
II cacciator, e pochi paion molti: 

La fera, se ben Y orme vaghe asconde, 

Non va secreta per le secche fronde. 

Era gli arbor secchi stassi ’1 lauro lieto, 

E di Ciprigna V odorato arbnsto; 

Verdeggia nelle bianche Alpe 1’ abeto, 

E piega i rami gia di neve onusto; 

Tiene il cipresso qualche uccel secreto ; 

E con venti combatte il pin robusto; 

L’ umil ginepro con le acute foglie, 

Le man non pugne altrui, che ben le coglie. 
L’ uliva, in qualche dolce piaggia aprica, 
Secondo il vento, par or verde, or bianca: 
Natura in questa tal serba, e nutrica, 

Quel verde, che nell’ altre fronde manca: 
Gia i peregrini uccei con gran fatica 
Hanno condotto la famiglia stanca 
Di la del mare, e pel cammin lor mostri 
Nereidi, Tritoni, e gli altri mostri. 

Ha combattuto dell’ imperio, e vinto 

La notte, e prigion mena il breve giorno: 
Nel ciel seren d’ eterne fiamme cinto 
Lieta il carro stellato mena intorno; 

Ne prima surge, ch’ in oceano tinto 
Si vede 1’ altro aurato carro adorno; 

Orion freddo col coltel minaccia 
Phebo, se mostra a noi la bella faccia. 


410 


POESIE 


Seguon questo notturno carro ardente 
Yigilie, escubie, sollecite cure, 

E 1 sonno, e benche sia molto potente, 
Queste importune il vincon spesso pure, 

E i dolci sogni, che ingannon la mente, 
Quando e oppressa da fortune dure: 

Di sanita, d’ assai tesor fa festa 
Alcun, che infermo e povero si desta. 

O miser quel, che in notte cosi lunga 
Non dorme, e ’1 disiato giorno aspetta; 

Se avvien, che molto, e dolce disio il punga, 
Quale il futuro giorno li prometta; 

E benche ambo le ciglia insieme aggiunga, 

E i pensier tristi escluda, e i dolci ammetta; 
Dormendo, o desto, accioche il tempo inganni, 
Gli par la notte un secol di cent’ anni. 

O miser chi tra 1’ onde trova fuora 
Si lunga notte, assai lontan dal lito; 

E ’1 cammin rompe della cieca prora 
Il vento, e freme il mar un fer mugito; 

Con molti prieghi, e voti 1’ Aurora 
Chiamata, sta col suo vecchio marito: 
Numera tristo, e disioso guarda 

I passi lenti della notte tarda. 

Quanto e diversa, anzi contraria sorte 

De’ lieti amanti nelT algente bruma, 

A cui le notti sono chiare, e corte, 

II giorno oscuro, e tardo si consuma. 

Nella stagion cosi gelida, e forte, 

Gia rivestiti di novella piuma, 

Hanno deposto gli augelletti alquanto, 

Non so s’ io dica, o lieti versi, o pianto. 

Stridendo in ciel e gru veggonsi a lunge 
L’ aere stampar di varie, e belle forme; 

E 1’ ultima col collo steso aggiunge 
Ov’ e quella dinanzi alle vane orme; 

E poiche negli aprichi lochi giunge, 

Vigile un guarda, e 1’ altra schiera dorme; 
Cuoprono i prati, e van leggier pe’ laghi 
Mille spetie d’ uccei, dipinti, e vaghi. 


411 


DI LORENZO De’ MEDICI. 

L’ Aquila spesso col volato lento 

Minaccia tutti, e sopra il stagno vola, 

Levonsi insieme, e caccionla col vento 
Delle penne stridenti, e se pur sola 
Una fuor resta del pennuto armento, 

L’ uccel di Giove subito la invola: 

Resta ingannata misera, se crede 
Andarne a Giove come Ganimede. 

Zefiro s’ e fuggito in Cipri, e balla 
Co’ fiori ozioso per 1’ erbetta lieta; 

L’ aria non piu serena, bella, e gialla, 

Borea, ed Aquilon rompe, ed inquieta: 

L’ acqua corrente, e querula incristalla 
II ghiaccio, e stracca or si riposa cheta: 

Preso il pesce nell’ onda dura, e chiara, 

Resta come in ambra aurea zanzara. 

Quel monte, che s’ oppone a Cauro fero, 

Che non molesti il gentil fior cresciuto 
Nel suo grembo d’ onor, ricchezze, e ’mpero, 
Cigne di nebbie il capo gia canuto; 

Gli omer cadenti giu dal capo altero 
Cuoprono i bianchi crini, e ’1 petto irsuto 
L’ orribil barba, ch’ e pel ghiaccio rigida: 

Fan gli occhi, e ’1 naso un fronte, e ’1 ciel lo ’nfrigida. 
La nebulosa ghirlanda, che cigne 

L’ alte tempie, gli mette Noto in testa; 

Borea dall’ Alpe poi la caccia, e spigne, 

E nudo, e bianco, il vecchio capo resta; 

Noto sopra 1’ ale umide, e maligne 
Le nebbie porta, e par di nuovo il vesta; 

Cosi Morello irato, or carco, or lieve, 

Minaccia al pian subietto or acqua, or neve. 
Partesi d’ Etiopia caldo e tinto 
Austro, e sazia le assettate spugne, 

Nell’ onde salse de Tirreno intinto, 

Appena a’ destinati luoghi giugne, 

Gravido d’ acqua, e da nugoli cinto, 

E stanco stringe poi ambo le pugne ; 

I fiumi lieti contro alle acque amiche 
Escono allor delle caverne antiche. 


412 


POESIE 


Rendono grazie ad Ocean padre adorni 
D’ ulve, e di fronde fluvial le tempie; 
Suonan per festa conche, e torti corni, 
Tumido il ventre gia, superbo sempre, 

Lo sdegno conceputo molti giorni 
Contro alle ripe timide s’ adempie; 
Spumoso ha rotto gia Y inimic’ argine, 

Ne serva il corso dell’ antico margine. 

Non per vie torte, o per cammino oblico, 

A guisa di serpenti, a gran volumi 
Sollecitan la via al padre antico; 

Congiungo V onde insieme i lontan fiumi, 

E dice 1’ uno all’ altro, come amico, 

Nuove del suo paese, e de’ costumi: 

Cos! parlando insieme in strana voce, 
Ciercon, ne truovon, la smarrita foce. 
Quando gonfiato, e largo si ristrigne 
Tra gli alti monti d’ una chiusa valle, 
Stridon frenate, turbide, e maligne 
L’ onde, e miste con terra paion gialle: 

E gravi petre sopra petre pigne, 

Irato a’ sassi dell’ angusto calle ; 

L’ onde spumose gira, e orribil freme: 

Yede il pastor dall’ alto, e sicur teme. 

Tal fremito piangendo rende trista 
La terra dentro al cavo ventre adusta; 
Caccia col fumo fuor fiamma, e acqua mista 
Gridando, che esce per la bocca angusta; 
Terribile agli orecchi, et alia vista: 

Teme vicina il suono alta, e combusta 
Volterra, e i lagon torbidi, che spumano, 
E piova aspetta se piu alto fumano. 

Cosi crucciato il fer torrente frende 
Superbo, e le contrarie ripe rode; 

Ma poiche nel pian largo si distende, 

Quasi contenta, allora appena s’ ode: 
Incerto se in su torna, o se pur scende, 

Ha di monti distanti fatto prode; 

Gia vincitor, al cheto lago incede, 

Hi rami, e tronchi pien, montane prede. 


413 


DI LORENZO De’ MEDICI. 

Apenna e suta a tempo la villana 
Pavida a aprir alle bestie la stalla; 

Porta il figlio, clie piange nella zana; 

Segue la figlia grande, et ha la spalla 
Grave di panni vili, lini, e lana: 

Va 1* altra vecchia masseritia a galla : 
Nuotano i porci, e spaventati i buoi, 

Le pecorelle, che non si toson poi. 

Alcun della famiglia s’ e ridotto 
In cima della casa, e su dal tetto 
La povera ricchezza vede ir sotto, 

La fatica, la speme, e per sospetto 
Di se stesso, non duolsi, e non fa motto; 
Teme alia vita il cor nel tristo petto, 

Ne di quel eh’ e piu car par conto faccia; 
Cosi la maggior cura ogni altra caccia. 

La nota, e verde ripa allor non frena 
I pesci lieti, che han piu ampj spazi; 

L’ antica, e giusta voglia alquanto e piena 
Di veder nuovi liti; e non ben sazj 
Questo nuovo piacer vaghi li mena 
A veder le ruine, e i grandi strazj 
Degli edificj, e sotto 1’ acqua i muri 
Veggon lieti, ed ancor non ben sicuri. 

In guisa allor di piccola isoletta, 

Ombrone, amante superbo, Ambra eigne; 
Ambra non meno da Lauro diletta, 

Geloso, se ’1 rival la tocca, e strigne; 
Ambra Driade a Delia sua accetta, 

Quanto alcuna che stral fuor d’ arco pigne; 
Tanto bella, e gentil, eh’ al fin le noce, 
Leggier di piedi, e piu eh’ altra veloce. 

Fu da’ primi anni questa Nympha amata 
Dal suo Latjro gentil, pastore Alpino, 

D’ un casto amor, non era penetrata 
Lasciva fiamma al petto peregrino; 
Fugiendo il caldo un di nuda era entrata 
Nelle onde fredde d’ Ombron, d’ Apennino 
Figlio, superbo in vista, e ne’ costumi, 

Pel padre antico, et cento frati fiumi. 


414 


POESIE 


Come le membra verginali entrorno 
Nelle acque brune e gelide, sentio, 

Et, mosso da leggiadro corpo adorno, 

Della spelonca usci 1’ altero Dio, 

Dalla sinistra prese il torto como, 

E nudo il resto, accieso di disio, 

Difende il capo inculto a’ phebei raggi, 
Coronato d’ abeti, e montan faggi. 

E verso il loco ove la Nympha stassi, 

Giva pian pian, coperto dalle fronde; 

Ne era visto, ne sentire i passi 
Lasciava il mormorio delle chiare onde; 

Cosi vicin tanto alia Nymplia fassi, 

Che giunger crede le sue treccie bionde, 

E quella bella Nympha in braccio havere, 

E nudo, il nudo e bel corpo tenere. 

Sicome pesce, alhor che incauto cuopra 
El pescator con rara et sottil maglia, 

Euggie la rete qual sente di sopra, 

Lasciando per fuggir alcuna scaglia; 

Cosi la Nympha, quando par si scuopra. 
Euggie lo Dio, che adosso se le scaglia; 

Ne fu si presta, anzi fu si presto elli, 

Che in man lasciolli alcun de’ suoi capelli. 

E saltando dell’ onde strigne il passo, 

Di timor piena fuggie nuda, e scalza; 

Lascia i panni, e li strali, et il turcasso; 

Non cura i pruni acuti, o’ Y aspra balza; 
Resta lo Dio dolente, afflitto, e lasso, 

Pel dolor le man stringe, al ciel gli occhi alza, 
Maladisce la man crudele, e tarda, 

Quando i biondi capelli svelti guarda. 

E seguendola alhor, diceva, o mano 
A vellere i bei crin presta, e feroce, 

Ma a tener quel corpo piu che humano, 

E farmi lieto, ohime, poco veloce: 

Cosi piangendo il primo errore invano, 
Credendo almeno aggiugner con la voce 
Dove arrivar non puote il passo tardo, 
Gridava, o Nympha, un flume sono, et ardo : 


415 


DI LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 

Tu m accendesti in mezzo alle fredde acque 
El petto d’ uno ardente desir cieco; 

Perche, come neir onde il corpo giacque, 
Non giace, che staria meglio, con meco? 

Se 1’ ombra, e Y acqua mia cbiara ti piacque, 
Piu belle ombre, piu belle acque ha il mio speco; 
Piaccionti le mie cose, e non piaccio io ? 

Et son pur d’ Apennin figliuolo, et Dio. 

La Nympha fuggie, e sorda a’ prieghi fassi, 

A’ bianchi pie aggiugne ale il timore; 
Sollecita lo Dio correndo i passi, 

Fatti a seguir veloci dall’ amore; 

Vede da pruni et da taglienti sassi, 

I bianchi pie ferir con gran dolore; 

Crescie el desio, pel quale aghiaccia, e suda, 
Veggendola fuggir, si bella, e nuda. 

Timida, e vergognosa Ambba pur corre, 

Nel corso a’ venti rapidi non cede; 

Le leggier piante sulle spighe porre 
Potria, e sosterrieno il gentil piede; 

Yedesi Ombrone ognor piu campo torre, 

La Nympha ad ogni passo manco vede, 

Gia nel pian largo tanto il corso avanza, 

Che di giugnerla perde ogni speranza. 

Gia pria per li monti aspri, e repenti 
Yenia tra sassi con rapido corso, 

I passi alti, manco espediti, e lenti, 

Eaceano a lui sperar qualche soccorso; 

Ma giunto, lasso, giu ne’ pian patenti, 

Eu messo quasi al fiume stanco un morso, 
Poi che non puo col pie, per la campagna 
Col disio e cogli occhi Y accompagna. 

Che debbe far Y innamorato Dio, 

Poiche la bella Nympha piu non giugne ? 
Quanto gli e piu negata, piu desio 
L’ innamorato core accende, e pugne; 

La Nympha era gia presso ove Arno mio 
Ricieve Ombrone, e Y onde sue congiugne 
Ombrone, Arno veggiendo, si conforta, 

E surge alquanto la speranza morta. 


410 


POESIE 


Grida da lungi; o Arno, a cni rifngge 
La maggior parte di noi fiumi Toschi, 

La bella Nympha, che come ucciel fugge, 
Da me seguita in tanti monti, e boschi, 
Sanza alcuna pietate, il cor mi strugge, 

Ne par, che amor il duro cor conoschi; 
Rendimi lei, e la speranza persa; 

E il legier corso suo rompi, e ’ntraversa, 

Io sono Ombron, che le mie cerule onde 
Per te racoglio, a te tutte le serbo, 

E fatte tue diventon si profonde, 

Che sprezzi e ripe, e ponti alto e superbo; 
Questa e mia preda, e queste treccie bionde, 
Quali in man porto con dolore acerbo, 

Ne fan chiar segno; in te mia speme e sola; 
Soccorri presto, che la Nympha vola. 

Arno udendo Ombrone, da pieta mosso, 
Perche el tempo non basta a far risposta, 
Ritenne Y acqua, e gia gonfiato, e grosso, 

Da lnngi al corso della bell’ Ambra osta; 

Eu da nuovo timor freddo, e percosso 
Il vergin petto, quanto piu s’ accosta; 

Drieto Ombron sente, e inanzi vede un lago, 
Ne sa che farsi el cor gelato, et vago. 

Come fera cacciata, e poi difesa, 

Dei can fuggiendo la bocca bramosa, 

Euor del periglio gia, la rete tesa 
Veggiendo inanzi agli occhi paurosa, 

Quasi gia certa d’ haver esser presa, 

Ne fuggie inanzi, o indrieto tornare osa; 
Teme i can, alia rete non si fida, 

Non sa che farsi, e spaventata grida. 

Tal della bella Nympha era la sorte, 

Da ogni parte da paura oppressa, 

Non sa che farsi, se non desiar morte; 

Vede 1’ un fiume, e 1’ altro, che s’ appressa; 
E disperata alhor gridava forte : 

O casta Dea, a cui io fui concessa 
Dal caro padre, e dalla madre antica, 

Unica aita all’ ultima fatica. 


417 


DI LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 

Diana belia, questo petto casto 
Non maculo giammai folle disio, 

Guardalo hor tu, percll , io Nympha non basto 
A duo nimici, e Y uno e 1’ altro e Dio; 

Col desio del morir m 5 e sol rimasto 
A1 core il casto amor di Lauro mio; 

Portate, o venti, questa voce estrema 
A Lauro mio, che la mia morte gema. 

Ne eron quasi della bocca fuore 
Queste parole, cbe i candidi piedi 
Furno occupati da novel rigore, 

Crescierli poi, e farsi un sasso vedi; 

Mutar le membra, e ’\ bel corpo calore, 

Ma pur, che fussi gia donna, ancor credi; 

Le membra mostron, come suol figura 
Bozzata, e non finita in petra dura. 
Ombrone per corso faticato, e lasso, 

Per la speranza della cara preda, 

Prende nuovo vigore, e strigne il passo, 

E par, die quasi in braccio haver la creda; 
Crescier veggiendo inanzi agli ochi un sasso, 
Ignaro ancor, non sa d’ onde proceda; 

Ma poi veggiendo vana ogni sua voglia, 

Si ferma pien di maraviglia, e doglia. 

Come in un parco, cerva, o altra fera, 

Ch’ e di materia, o picciol muro chiuso, 
Soprafatta dai can, campar non spera, 

Vicina al muro e per timor la suso 
Salta, et si lieva inanzi al can leggiera, 

Resta il can dentro, misero e deluso, 

Non potendo seguir ove e salita, 

Fermasi, e guarda il loco onde e fuggita. 
Cos! lo Dio ferma la veloce orma, 

Guarda piatoso il bel sasso crescente; 

11 sasso, che ancor serba qualche forma 
Di bella Donna, e qualche poco sente; 

E come amore e la pieta V informa, 

Di pianto bagna il sasso amaramente; 
Dicendo: o Am bra mia, queste son Y acque, 
Ove bagnar gia il bel corpo ti piacque; 


418 


POESIE 


lo non harei creduto in dolor tanto, 

Che la propria pieta vinta da quella 
Della mia Nympha, si fuggissi alquanto, 

Per la maggior pieta d’ Ambra mia bella; 
Questa, non gia mia, move in me il pianto: 
E' pur la vita trista, e meschinella, 
Anchorche eterna; quando meco penso 
E' peggio in me, die in lei non haver senso. 
Lasso, ne’ monti miei paterni eccelsi 
Son tante Nymphe, e sicura e ciascuna, 

Era mille belle la piu bella scelsi, 

Non so come; et amando sol quest’ una, 
Primo segno d’ amore, i crini svelsi; 

Et cacciala dell’ acqua fresca e bruna, 
Tenera, e nuda: e poi, fuggiendo esangue, 
Tinge le spine e i sassi sacro sangue. 

Et finalmente in nn sasso conversa, 

Per colpa sol del mio crudel disio: 

Non so, non sen do mia, come 1’ ho persa, 
Ne posso perder questo viver rio; 

In questo e troppo la mia sorte avversa, 
Misero essendo et immortale Dio; 

Che s’ io potessi pur almen morire, 

Potria el giusto immortal dolor finire. 

Io ho imparato come si compiaccia 

A Donna amata, et il suo amar guadagni; 
Che a quella che piu ami, piu dispiaccia. 

O Borea algente, che gelato stagni, 

L’ acqua correlate fa s’ induri, e ghiaccia, 
Che petrafatta la Nympha accompagni; 

Ne Sol giammai co’ raggi chiara e gialli 
Risolva in acqua i rigidi cristalli. 


DI LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


419 


LA CACCIA CON FALCONE. 

Era gia rosso tutto Y oriente, 

E le time de’ monti parien d’ oro; 

La passeretta schiamazzar si sente; 

El contadin tornava al suo lavoro; 

Le stelle eron fugite, e gia presente 
Si vedea quasi quel, ch’ amo Y alloro; 
Ritornavansi al bosco molto in fretta 
L’ alocho, el barbagianni, e la civetta. 

La volpe ritornava alia sua tana; 

El lupo ritornava al suo diserto, 

Era venuta e sparita Diana, 

Pero egli saria suto scoperto: 

Havea gia la sollecita villana 
Alle pecore, e i porci Y uscio aperto; 

Netta era Y aria, fresca, e cristallina, 

Et aspettar buon di per la mattina. 

Quando fui desto da certi romori 
Di buon sonagli, et allettar di cani: 

Hor su andianne presto, ucellatori, 

Perche gli e tardi, e i luoghi son lontani: 

El canattier sia 4 primo ch’ esca fuori; 

Almen che sian de 5 cavalli stamani; 

Non si guastassi di can qualche paio; 

Deh vanne innanzi presto, capellaio. 

Adunque il capellaio nanzi camina, 

Chiama Tamburo, Pezuolo, e Martello, 

La Eoglia, la Castagna, e la Guerrina, 

Fagiano, Fagianin, Roca, e Capello, 

E Friza, e Biondo, Bamboccio, e Rosina, 
Ghiotto, la Torta, Viola, e Pestello, 

E Serchio, e Fuse, e’ 1 mio Buontempo vecchio, 
Zambraco, Buratel, Scaccio, e Penecchio. 


420 


POESTE 


Quando hanno i can di campo preso un pezzo, 
Quattro segugi van con quattro sparvieri; 
Guglielmo, che per suo antico vezzo 
Sempre quest’ arte ha fatto volontieri; 
Giovanni Franco, e Dionigi il sezzo, 

Che innanzi a lui cavalca il Fogla Amieri ; 
Ma perche era buon’ ora la mattina, 

Mentre cavalca Dionigi inchina. 

Ma la fortuna, che ha sempre piacere 

Di far diventar brun quel, ch’ e piu bianco, 
Dormendo Dionigi fa cadere 
Appunto per disgrazia al lato manco ; 

Si che cadendo adosso alio sparviere, 
Ruppegli un’ alia, e macinnoli il fianco, 
Questo li piacque assai, benche nol dica, 

Che gli par esser fuor di gran fatica. 

Non cade Dionigi, ma rovina, 

E come debbi creder tocco fondo, 

Che com un tratto egli ha preso la china, 
Presto la truova com un sasso ton do; 

Disse fra se meglio era stamattina 
Restar nel letto, come fe Gismondo, 

Scalza, e in camiscia sulle pocce al fresco; 
Non c’ inciampo mai piu, se di quest’ esco. 

Io ho avuto pur poco intelletto 
A uscire staman si tosto fuori, 

Se mi restavo in casa nel mio letto, 

Per me meglio era, e per li uccellatori; 

Messo harei 1 disinar bene in assetto, 

E la tovaglia adorna di bei fiori; 

Meglio e stracar la coltrice, e ’1 guanciale, 
Che il cavallo, e ’1 famiglio, e farsi male. 
Intanto vuol lo sparviere impugnare, 

Ma gli e si rotto, che non pub far 1’ erta; 
Dionigi con la man 1’ osa pigliare, 

E pur ricade, e di questo s’ accerta, 

Che d’ altro li bisogna procacciare; 

Nel rassettargli la manica aperta 
Le man ghermilli, e lui sotto se ’1 caccia, 
Saltolli adosso, e fenne una cofaccia. 


421 


DI LORENZO DE’ MEDICI, 

Dov’ e Corona ? ov’ e Gioyan Simone ? 
Dimanda, Braccio, ov’ e quel del gran naso? 
Braccio ripose; a me varie cagione 
Fatto han ch’ ognun di loro sia rimaso; 

Non prese mai il Corona uno starnone, 

Se per disgrazia non Y ha preso, o a caso; 

Se s’ e lasciato adunque non s’ ingiuria: 
Menarlo seco e cattiva auguria. 

Luigi Pulci ov’ e, che non si sente ? 

Egli se n’ ando dianzi in quel boschetto, 

Che qualche fantasia ha per la mente, 

Yorra fantasticar forse un sonetto; 

Guarti Corona, che se non si pente, 

E’ barbotto staman molto nel letto, 

E sentii ricordarli te Corona, 

Et a cacciarti in frottola, o in canzona. 
Gioyan Simone ha gia preso la piega 
D’ andarne, senza dire alii altri addio; 

Senza licenzia n’ e ito a bottega, 

Di che gran sete tiene, e gran desio; 

Luigi quando il hero naso piega, 

Cani, e cavalli adombra, e fa restio; 

Per questo ognun che resti si contenta, 

Cio che lo vede fuggie, e si spaventa. 
Restono adunque tre da uccellare, 

E drieto a questi andava molta gente; 

Chi per piacere, chi pur per guardare; 
Bartolo, et Ulivier, Braccio e il Patente, 
Che mai non vidde piu starne volare; 

Et io con lor mi missi parimente, 

Pietro Alamanni, e il Pontinar Giovanni 
Che pare in sulla nona un barbagianni. 

Strozzo drieto a costor, come maestro 
Di questa gente, andava scosto un poco; 
Come quello che v’ era molto destro, 

E molte volte ha fatto simil gioco; 

E tanto cavalcamo pel silvestro, 

Che finalmente fumo giunti al loco 
Piu bel, che mai vedesse creatura : 

Per uccellar 1’ ha fatto la natura. 


422 


POESIE 


E si vedea una gentil Valletta, 

Un fossatel con certe macchie in mezzo, 

Da ogni parte riniunita, e netta, 

Sol nel fossato star possono al rezzo; 

Era da ogni lato una piaggetta, 

Che d’ uccellar facea venir riprezzo 
A chi non avessi occhi, tanto e bella; 

El mondo non ha una pari a quella, 

Scaldava il Sole al monte gia le spalle, 

E’l resto della valle e ancora ombrosa; 
Quando giunta la gente in su quel calle, 
Prima a vedere, e disegnar si posa, 

E poi si spargon tutti per la valle; 

E perche a punto riesca ogni cosa, 

Chi va co’ can chi alia guardia, al getto, 
Sicome Strozzo ha ordinato, e detto. 

Era da ogni parte uno sparviere 

Alto in buon luogo da poter gittare; 

L’altro a capo n era del canattiere, 

E alia brigata lo vorra scagliare; 

Era Bartolo al fondo, et Uliviere, 

Et alcun altro per poter guardare 
A mezza piaggia; e in una bella stoppia, 

El cappellaio ai can leva la coppia. 

Non altrimenti quando la trombetta 
Sente alle mosse il lieve barbaresco, 

Parte correndo, o vuo dir, vola in fretta; 
Cosi i cani, che sciolti son di fresco; 

E se non pur che 1 canattier gli aletta, 
Chiamando alcuni, et a chi squote il pesclio, 
'Sarebbe il seguitarli troppa pena; 

Pur la pertica, e il fischio li rafrena. 

Tira buon can, su, tira su, cammina, 

Andianne, andianne, torna qui, te, torna 
Ah sciagurato Tamburo, e Guerrina, 

Abiate cura a Serchio, che soggiorna; 

A.h bugiardo, ah poltron, volgi Rossina, 
Guata buon can, guata brigata adorna; 

Te, Eagiano, o che volta fu mai quella: 

In questo modo il canattier favella. 


423 


DI LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 

State avveduti, ah Scaccio, frulla, frulla; 

E che leva cacciando 1’ amor mio ? 

Ma io non veggo pero levar nulla, 

E n’ ha pur voglia, e n* ha pur gran desio; 
Guarda la Torta la che si trastulla, 

O che romor faranno, e gia ’1 sent’ io; 

Chi salta, e balla, e chi le levera, 

Di questi cani il miglior can sera. 

Io veggo che Buontempo e in su la traccia. 

Ve’ che le corre, e le fara levare, 

Habbi cura a Buontempo, che e’ le caccia, 
Parmi vederle, e sentirle frullare, 

Benche e’ sia vecchio assai, non ti dispiaccia, 
Ch’ io 1’ ho veduto, e so quel che sa fare, 

Io so, che ’1 mio Buontempo mai non erra, 
Ecco, a te Ulivier, guardale a terra. 

Guarda quell’ altra all’ erta, una al fossato, 
Non ti diss’ io, che mi parea sentire? 
Guardane una alia vigna, e 1’ altr’ allato, 
Guardane dua da me, guardane mille; 

Alla brigata prima havea gittato 
Giovan Francesco, et empieva le ville 
Di grida, e di conforti al suo uccello; 

Ma per la fretta gitto col cappello. 

Ecco Guglielmo a te una ne viene, 

Cava il cappello, et alzerai la mano; 

Non istar piu Guglielmo, ecco a te, bene; 
Guglielmo getta, e grida, ahi villano! 
Segue la starna, e drieto ben le tiene 
Quello sparviere, e in tempo momentano 
Dette in aria forse cento braccia; 

Poi cadde in terra, e gia la pela, e straccia. 
Garri a quel can, Guglielmo grida forte, 

Che corre per cavargnene di pie; 

E perche le pertiche erono corte, 

Un sasso prese, et a Guerrina die; 

Poi corre giu, sanz’ aspettar piu scorte, 

E quando presso alio sparvier piu e, 

Non lo veggendo, cheto usava stare, 

Per udir se lo sante sonaglare. 


424 


POESIE 


E cosi stando gli venne veduto; 

Presto, grida, a caval, la prima e presa, 

Lieto a lui vanne destro, et aweduto; 

Come colui, che Y arte ha bene intesa; 

Preseli il geto, e per quel Y ha tenuto; 

Dalli il capo, e 4 cervello, e non li pesa; 
Sgermillo, e Y unghia e 1 becco gli havea netto ; 
Poi rimisse il cappello, e torna a getto. 

Giovan Francesco intanto havea ripreso 
Il suo sparviere, e preso mighor loco; 

Parli veder, che a lui ne venga teso 
Uno starnone, e come presso un poco 
Gli fu, egli ha tutte le dita esteso, 

E gitto come maestro di tal gioco; 

Giunse la starna, e perche era vecchia, 

Si fe lasciare, e tutto lo spennecchia. 

In vero egli era un certo sparverugio, 

Che somigliava un gheppio, tanto e poco, 

Non credo preso havesse un calderugio; 

Se non faceva tosto, o in breve loco, 

Non havere speranza nello indugio: 

Quando e’ non piglia, e’ si levava a gioco; 

E la cagione che quell tratto e’ non prese, 

Fu, che non vi avea il capo, e non vi attese. 
Intanto venne uno starnone all’ erta, 

Yiddelo il Fogla, e fece un gentil getto; 

Lo sparvier vola per la piaggia aperta, 

E presegnene innanzi al dirimpetto; 

Corre giu il Fogla, e pargnene haver certa, 
Pero che lo sparvier molto e perfetto; 

Preselo al netto, ove non era stecco, 

E in terra insanguinolli i piedi, e ’1 becco. 

E questo fe che lo sparviere e soro, 

Et intanto Ulivier forte gridava; 

Chiama giu il cappellaio, chiama costoro, 
Guardate una n’ e qui, cosi parlava, 

Tu lega i can, pero che basta loro 
La Rocca, che di sottera le cava; 

Yien giu Guglielmo, non ti star al rezzo, 

E tu, e ’1 Fogla la mettete in mezzo. 


425 


DI LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 

Cosi fu fatto, e come sono in punto, 

II canattier dicea, sotto Rocca; 

Qui cadde, ve’, e se tu 1 harai giunto, 

Siesi tuto, com qui, te, ponli bocca; 

Poi dice, havete voi guardato a punto ? 

Et in quel lo starnon del fondo scocca; 

Ecco a te Eogla : e ’1 Eogla grida, e getta, 
E ’1 simil fe Guglielmo molto in fretta. 
Lascio la starna andare lo sparviere, 

Et attende a fugir quel, che gli ha drieto; 
Disse Guglielmo, tu 1’ hai, Eogla Amieri ; 
* * * * 

Corri tu, che vi se’ presso Ulivieri, 

Diceva il Eogla, e Guglielmo sta cheto; 
Corse Ulivieri, e come a loro e sceso, 
Vidde, che 1’ uno sparviere ha 1’ altro preso. 
Quel del Eogla havea preso per la gorga 
Quel di Guglielmo, e crede, che ’1 suo sia; 
Perche a Guglielmo tal parole porga: 

La tua e stata pur gran villania, 

Non credo a starne lo sparviere scorga, 

Ma a sparvieri; egli e troppa pazzia, 

A impacciarsi uccellando con fanciulli; 
Questi non son buon giochi, o buon trastulli. 
Guglielmo queto sta, e gran fatica 
Dura a tener 1’ allegrezza coperta; 

Pur con humil parole par che dica; 
lo non lo viddi, e questa e cosa certa, 

E questo piu, e piu volte riplica; 

Intanto il Eogla havea gia sceso 1 ’erta, 

E come alio sparviere e prossimano, 

Quel di Guglielmo e guasto, il suo e sano. 
E getta presto il suo loghero in terra, 

Lo sparviere non men presto rispose, 

E come a vincitor in quella guerra, 

Vezzi li fa, et assai piacevol cose; 

Vede intanto Guglielmo, che lui erra, 

E guasto e il suo sparviere, onde rispose 
A1 Eogla ; tu se’ pur tu il villano, 

Et alzo presto per darli la mano. 


426 


POESIE 


Ma come il Fogla s’ accorse dell atto, 
Scostossi un poco, accioche non li dessi; 
Disse Guglielmo al Fogla, tu se’ matto, 

Se ne credi andar netto; e s’ io credessi 
Non far vendetta di quel, che m’ hai fatto. 
Credo m’ impiccherei, e s’ io havessi 
Meco Michel di Giorgio, o ’1 Rannucino, 
Attenderesti ad altro, cervellino. 

El Fogia innanzi alia furia si leva, 

E stassi cheto, et ha pur patienza, 

E altro viso, e parole non liaveva, 

Che quel, ch’ aspettando in favor la sentenza, 
E poi subitamente la perdeva; 

Disse Guglielmo ; voglio haver prudenza, 
Terrolla a mente insino all’ hore extreme, 

E rivedremci qualche volta insieme. 

Gia il Sole, in verso mezzo giorno cala, 

E vien Y ombre stremando, che raccorcia; 
Da loro proportione e brutta e mala, 

Come a figura dipinta in iscorcia; 

Rinforzava il suo canto la cicala, 

E ’1 mondo ardeva a guisa d’ una torcia; 

L’ aria sta cheta, et ogni fronde salda 
Nella stagion piu dispettosa, e calda. 

Quando il mio Dionigi tutto rosso, 

Sudando, come fassi un uovo fresco; 

Disse, star piu con voi certo non posso, 

Deh vientene almen tu Giovan Francesco ; 
Ma venitene tutti per ir grosso; 

Troppo sarebbe hero barbaresco, 

Chi volessi hor, quando la terra e accesa, 
Aspettar piu per pascersi di presa: 

E detto questo, die volta al cavallo, 

Senza aspettar Giovan Francesco ancora; 
Ciascun si mette presto a seguitallo, 

Che ’1 sole tutti consuma, e divora; 

El cappellaio vien drieto, e seguitallo 
I bracchi, ansando con la lingua fora; 
Quanto piu vanno, il caldo piu raddoppia; 
Pare appicciato il foco in ogni stoppia. 


427 


DI LORENZO DE’ MEDICI. 

Tornonsi a casa chi tristo, e chi lieto, 

E chi ha pieno il carnaiuol di stame; 
Alcun si sta senza, et e tristo c cheto, 

E bisogna procacci d’ altra came ; 
Guglielmo yiene dispettoso adrieto, 

Ne pub di tanta guerra pace fame; 
Giovan Erancesco gia non se ne cura; 
Che uccella per piacere, e per natura. 

E giunti a casa, riponeva il cuoio, 

E i can governa, e mette nella stalla 
Il canattier; poi all’ infrescatoio 
Rinovasi ognun co’ bicchieri a galla; 
Quivi si fa un altro uccellatoio, 

Quivi le starne alcun non lascia, o falla; 
Pare trebbiano il vin, sendo cercone, 

Si fa la voglia le yivande buone. 

El primo assalto fu sanza romore, 

Ognuno attende a menar la mascella; 

Ma poi, passato un po’ il primo furore, 
Chi d’ una cosa, chi d’ altra favella; 
Ciascuno al suo sparvier dava Y honore, 
Cercando d’ una scusa pronta, e bella; 

E chi molto non sa con lo sparviere, 

Si sforza hor qui col ragionare e here. 
Ogni cosa guastava la quistione 

Del Eogla con Guglielmo, onde si leva 
Su Dionigi con buona intentione, 

E in questo modo a Guglielmo diceva: 
Vuoci tu tor tanta consolatione ? 

E benche il caso stran pur ti pareva, 

Ea che tu sia com son io discreto, 

Che averai il mio sparviere, e statti cheto. 
Queste parole, e questo dolce stile, 

Perche Guglielmo V ama, assai li piace; 
E perche gli era pur di cor gentile, 
Delibero col Eogla far la pace; 

Onde li disse con parole humile, 

Star piu teco non voglio in contumace, 

E voglio in pace tutto sofferire; 

Eatto questo ciascun vanne a dormire. 


428 


POESIE 


E quel che si sognassi per la notte, 

Quello sarebbe bello a poter dire; 

Ch’ io so, ch’ ognun rimettera le dotte, 
Tnsino a terza vorranno dorm ire; 

Poi ce n’ andremo insieme a quelle grotte, 
E qualche lasca farem fuora uscire. 

E cosi passo, compar, lieto il tempo, 

Con mille rime in zucchero, et a tempo. 


ELEGIA. 


Vinto dalli amorosi empj martirj, 

Pin volte ho gia la mano a scriver porta, 
Come il cor viva in pianti, et in sospiri, 
Donna, per farti del mio stato accorta; 

Ma poi, temendo non Y haressi a sdegno, 

Ho dal primo pensier la man distorta. 

Cosi mentre che dentro il foco al legno 
E stato acceso, hora il disio m’ ha spinto, 
Hor m’ ha paura ritennto al segno : 

Ma piu celar non pnossi; et gia depinto 
Porto el mio mal nella pallida faccia, 

Come chi da mal lungo e stanco, e vinto. 

El cor dentro awampa hor, di fuor tutto aghiaccia; 
Onde convien, che a maggior forza io ceda. 

* * * * 

Speme, soverchio amor, mia fedeltate 

Questo laccio amoroso hanno al cor stretto, 
Et furato lor dolce libertate. 

Ben veggio il perso ben, ma perch’ io aspetto 
Trovar, donna gentile, in te merzede 
Pa, che di ben seguirti ho gran diletto; 

Che s’ egli e ver quel ch’ altri dice, o crede, 
Che persa e belta in donna sanza amore; 

Te ingiuriar non vorrei, e la mia fede: 
Perche non cerco alcun tuo disonore, 

Ma sol la grazia tua, e che ti piacci, 

Che ’1 mio albergo sia dentro al tuo core, 
Mostron pur que’ belli occhi, e’ non ti spiacci 
El mio servire; e cosi amor mi guida 
Ognor piu dentro ne’ tenaci lacci; 

Ne restera giammai finche me occida, 

Donna, se tua pieta non mi soccorre, 

Che morte hor mi minaccia, et hor mi snda: 


430 


POES1E 


Ahi, folle mio pensier, che si alto porre 
Vuolse T effetto; ma se a te m’ inchina, 
Madonna, il cielo, hor me li posso opporre ? 

Cosi. mi truovo in ardente fucina 

D’ amore, et ardo, e son d’ arder contento, 
Ne cierco al mio mal grave medicina, 

Se non quando mancar li spirti sento; 

Alhor ritorno al veder li occhi belli; 

Cosi in parte s’ acqueta el mio tormento. 

Talche se pur talvolta veder quelli 

Potessi, o in braccio haverti, o pure alquanto 
Tener le man ne’ crispi tua capelli, 

Mancherian i sospir, 1’ angoscia, el pianto, 

Et quel dolore in che la mente e involta, 

E in cambio a quel saria dolcezza, e canto. 

Ma tu dalli amorosi lacci sciolta, 

Crudel, non curi di mie pene alhora, 

Anzi gli occlii mi ascondi, altrove volta. 

Li occlii tuo belli, lasso, ove dimora 
II pharetrato Amor ver me protervo, 

Ove suo dardi arruota, ove gl’ indora. 

Et cosi il mio dolor non disacervo, 

Ma resto quasi un corpo semivivo, 

Con piu grave tormento, et piu acervo. 

Ma fa quel vuoi di me per fin ch’ i’ vivo, 

Io t’ amero, poiche al ciel cosi piace; 

Cosi ti giuro; et di mia man ti scrivo. 

Ne gesti, o sguardi, o parola fallace 

D’ altra non creder dal tuo amor mi svella, 
Ch’ al sine i’ spero in te pur trovar pace. 

Solo a te pensa 1’ alma, et sol favella 
Di te la lingua, e il cor te sol vorrebbe, 

Ne altra donna agli occhi mia par bella. 

Tanto amor, tanta fe certo dovrebbe 
Haver mossa a piata una Sirena, 

Et liquefatto un cor di pietra harebbe. 

Nata non se’ di Tigre, o di Leena, 

Ne preso il latte nella selva Ircana, 

O dove il ghiaccio el veloce Istro affrena. 


431 


DI LORENZO De’ MEDICI, 

Onde se quella speme non e vana, 

Che mi dan gli occhi tua, il occhi che ferno 
La piaga nel mio cor, ch’ ancor non sana 
Non vorrai, Amor, di me piu scherno. 

Cosi ti prego * * * 

Tua piata faccia il nostro amor eterno. 
Venga, se dee venir, tno aiuto quando 
Giovar mi possa, et non tardi tra via, 

Che nnoce spesso a chi ben vive amando. 
Ma, lasso, hor qnel mi duole e, ch’ io vorria, 

Il volto, e i gesti, e il pianto ch’ el cor preme, 
Accompagnassin qnesti versi mia; 

Ma s’ egli awien, che soletti ambo insieme, 
Posso il braccio tenerti al colla avvolto, 
Vedrai come d’amore alto arde, e geme, 
Vedrai cader dal mio pallido volto 
Nel tuo candido sen lacrime tante, 

Da’ mia ardenti sospiri * * molto. 

E se la lingua pavida, e tremante 
Non ti potra del cor lo affetto aprire, 

Come intervien sovente al fido amante, 

Dagli baldanza * * * dire, 

Quando gran fiamma in gentil cor accenda 
Lo amor, la speme del fedel servire, 

Chi sia che tanta cortesia riprenda ? 

Anzi, perche mal pnossi amor celare, 

Che altri dal volto, o gesti nol comprenda, 
Sovente io mi odo drieto susurrare, 

Quanto e dal primier suo esser mutato 
Questo meschin, per crudel donna amare. 
Non rispondo, anzi vergognoso guato 
A terra, come chi talvolta intende 
Quel, che a ciascun credea esser celato. 

La tua impieta te stessa, et me riprende, 

Che non bene tua bellezza accompagna, 

Et al mio bon servir mal cambio rende. 

Ne percio mai il cor di te si lagna, 

Ne si dorra sino alio extremo punto, 

Ma ben vorrebbe, e percio il volto bagna. 


432 


POESIE 


Teco T avessi il ciel, donna, congiunto 
In matrimonio: ah, che pria non venisti 
A1 mondo, o io non son piii tardo giunto ? 
Che gli occhi, co’ quai pria tu il core apristi, 

Ben mille volte harei baciato il giorno, 
Scacciando i van sospiri, e i pensier tristi. 

Ma questo van pensiero a che soggiorno ? 

Se tu pur dianzi, et io fui un tempo avanti 
Dal laccio coniugal legato intorno, 

Qual sol niorte convien, che scoglia * * * 

Puoi ben volendo e te ne prego, e stringo, 

Ch’ un cor, un sol voler sia tra due amanti. 
Ben t’ accorgi, Madonna, che non fingo 
Pianti, sospiri, o le parole ardente; 

Ma come Amor la detta, io la dipingo. 

Occhi belli, anzi stelle luciente, 

O parole soavi, accorte, e sagge, 

Man decor, che toccar vorrei sovente, 

Amor e quel, che a voi pregar mi tragge, 

Non sia, Madonna, il mio servire invano, 

Ne in van la mia speranza in terra cagge. 

Tu hai la vita, e la mia morte in mano, 

Vivo contento, s’ io ti parlo un poco, 

Se non, morte me ancide a mano a mano. 

Pa almen, s J io moro, dell’ extremo foco 
Le mia ossa infelice sieno extorte, 

E poste in qualche abietto, e picciol loco. 

Non vi sia scritto chi della mia morte 
Pussi cagion, che ti saria gravezza; 

Basta T urna di fuor stampata porte, 

“ Troppo in lui amor, troppo in altrui durezza.” 


DI LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 


433 


AMORI DI VENERE E MARTE. 

VENERE PARLA. 

Su Nymphe ornate il glorioso monte— 

Di canti, e balli, e resonanti lire; 

Fate di fior grillande alme alia fronte, 

Che mi par Marte amico mio sentire; 

E dalla plaga lattea su nel cielo 
Visto ho la stella sua lieta apparire. 

Spargete alT aura i crini avvolti in velo, 

E liete tutte nel fonte Acidalio 
Gratiose vi lavate il volto, e il pelo. 

Le sacre Muse dal liquor Castalio 
Di dolci carmi piene inviterete; 

Stendete drappi, ornate il ciel col palio. 

Bacco, e Sileno mio liete accogliete, 

E se Cerer non e sdegnata ancora 
Per Proserpina sua, la chiamerete. 

Va, Climen nympha mia, dair Aurora, 
Digli, che indugi alquanto il bel mattino, 
Lieta col suo Titon facci dimora. 

Tu Clytia andrai nel bel monte Pachino, 

Tu nel Peloro, e tu nel Lilibeo, 

Guardate di Sicilia ogni confino, 

Si, che Volcano mio fabro Pheteo 
Con Marte non mi trovi in adulterio, 
Donde fabula sia poi d’ ogni Deo. 

Ascondi Luna il lucido emisperio; 

Voi per le selve non latrate, o cani, 
Sicche d’ infamia non si scuopri il vero. 

Vien lieta notte, e voi profundi Mani 
Scurate Y ora, o tu figliuol Cupido, 

Mi do nelle tue braccia, in le tue mani. 

Con le tue liamme dolce ardente rido, 

Ea lume a Marte, mio sposo, et signore 
Tu me feristi, Amor, di te me fido. 


28 


434 


POESIE 


Marte, se oscure ancor ti paron Y ore, 

Vienne al mio dolce ospizio, ch’ io t’ aspetto; 
Vulcan non v’ e, che ci disturbi amore. 

Vien, ch’ io t’ invito nuda in mezo il letto, 

Non indugiar, ch’ el tempo passa, e vola, 
Coperto m’ ho di fior vermigli il petto. 
Vienne Marte, vien via, vien ch’ io son sola; 
Togliete e lumi, el mio mai non lo spengo; 
Non sia chi piu mi parli una parola. 


MARTE PARLA. 

Non qual mmico alle tue stanze vengo, 

Vener mia bella, ma sanz’ arme, o dardo, 
Che contro ai colpi tua null* arme tengo. 

Altra cosa e vedere un grato sguardo 
D’ un amoroso lume, ovunque e’ vada, 

Che spada, o lancea, o vessillo, o stendardo. 

“ Amor regge suo impero sanza spada;” 
Coperto no, ma vuole il corpo nudo, 

Dolce contento a seguir cio che aggrada; 

Odir parlar, non dispietato, e crudo, 

Ma dolce in se, qual di piata s’ accolga; 

E questa 1’ arme sia, la lancia, e ’1 scudo. 

Intorno al col suo bianca treccia awolga, 

Delli ardenti amator dura catena, 

E forte laccio, che giammai si sciolga. 

Baciar la bocca, e la fronte serena, 

E dua celesti lumi, e ’1 bianco petto, 

La lunga man d’ ogni beilezza piena, 

Altra cosa e giacer nell’ aureo letto 

Con la sua dolce arnica, et cantar carmi, 

Che affaticar il corpo al scudo, e elmetto. 

Gustar quel frutto, che puo lieto farmi, 

Ultimo fin d’ un tremante diletto; 

Tempo e d’ amor, tempo e da spada, et armi. 


D1 LORENZO DI$’ MEDICI. 


435 


APOLLO PARLA. 

Ingiuria e grande al letto romper fede; 

Non sia chi pecchi, e di’, chi ’1 sapra mai? 
Che ’1 sol, le stelle, el ciel, la luna il vede. 

E tu che lieta col tuo Marte stai, 

Ne pensi, il ciel di tua colpa dispone; 

Cosi spesso un gran gaudio torna in guai. 
Ogni lungo secreto ha sua stagione; 

Chi troppo va tentando la fortuna, 

Se allide in qualche scoglio, e ben ragione. 
Correte, o Nymphe, a veder sol quest’ una 
Adulterata Yenere impudica, 

E ’1 traditor di Marte; o stelle ! o luna ! 
Giove, se non ti par troppa fatica, 

Con Giunon tua gelosa, al furto viene; 

Non pecchi alcun, se non vuol che si dica. 
Vieni a veder, Mercurio, le catene, 

Che tu riporti in ciel di quest’ e quella; 

Che nul peccato mai fu senza pene. 

Pluto, se inteso hai ancor questa novella, 

Con Proserpina tua lassa 1’ inferno; 

Ascendi all’ aura relucente et bella. 

Alme, che ornate il bel paese eterno 
De’ campi Elysi, al gran furto venite; 
Convien si scuopra ogni secreto interim. 
Glauco, Neptuno, Dori, Alpheo correte 
Al tristo incesto, et Ino, et Melicerta, 

Con le Driade, e ’1 gran padre d’ Amphytrite. 
Accio che in terra, in mare, et in ciel sie certa 
Infamia tal d’ una malvagia et rea, 

Et grave strupo, e inhonestate aperta. 
Vulcan, vieni a veder tua Cytherea, 

Come con Marte suo lieta si posa, 

Et rotta t’ ha la fede, et fatta rea. 

Debbe al consortio tuo esser piatosa, 

Ad altri no; ma gl’ e fatica grave 
Posser guardare una donna amorosa. 


430 


POESIE 


Che sa la vuol, non fia chi mai la cave; 

Tu dormi forse, ma se 1 mio sono hai inteso, 
Vieni a veder di lei 1’ opere prave. 

Lascia Sicilia, e 4 tno stato sospeso; 

Che patir tanta ingiuria honoria te poco, 
Vendetta brama Dio d’ un core offeso. 


VULCANO PARLA. 

Non basta havermi il ciel dalT alto loco 
Gittato in terra, et da sua mensa privo, 

Et fatto fabro, et Dio del caldo foco; 

Che per pin pena mia ciaschedun Divo 
Cierchi straziarmi, et dimostrar lor prove; 
Ma tanta ingiuria mai non la prescrivo. 

Io pur attendo a far saette a Giove, 

Sudando intorno all’ antica fucina, 

Et Marte gode mie fatiche altrove 

Venere, Vener mia, spuma marina, 

Tu Marte adulter, pena pagherete, 

Che grave colpa vuol gran disciplina. 

* * * * 


LA CONEESSIONE. 

Donne, et fanciulle, io mi fo conscienzia 
D’ ogni mio fallo, e vo’ far penitenzia. 
Io mi confesso ad voi primieramente, 
Ch’ io sono stato al piacer negligente; 
Et molte cose ho lasciato pendente; 
Di questo primo i mi fo conscienza. 
Io havea lungo tempo disiato 

A una gentil donna haver parlato, 

Poi in sua presentia fui ammutolato; 
Di questo ancora i’ mi fo conscienza. 



437 


DI LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 

Gia in un altro loco mi trovai, 

Et un bel tratto per vilta lasciai; 

E non ritorno poi quel tratto mai: 

Di questo ancora i’ mi fo conscienza. 

Ah, quante volte io me ne son pentito! 

Presi una volta un piu tristo partito, 

Ch’ io pagai innanzi, e poi non fui servito: 
Di questo ancora i’ mi fo conscienza. 

Io mi ricordo ancor d’ altri peccati; 

Che, per ir drieto a parole di frati, 

Molti dolci piaceri ho gia lasciati: 

Di questo ancora i’ mi fo conscienza. 
Dolgomi ancor, che non ho conosciuto 

La giovenezza, e ’1 bel tempo che ho avuto, 
Se non hor, quando egli e in tutto perduto; 
Di questo ancora i mi fo conscienza. 

Dico mia colpa, et ho molto dolore 
Di vilta, negligentia, et d’ ogni errore : 
Ricordi, o non ricordi, innanzi Am ore 
Generalmente io ne fo conscienza. 

Et prego tutti voi, che vi guardiate, 

Che simili peccati non facciate; 

Accio che vecchie non ve ne pentiate, 

Et in van poi ne facciate conscienza. 


LE SETTE ALLEGREZZE D’ AMORE. 

Deh state a udire giovane et donzelle 
Queste sette allegrezze, ch’ io vo’ dire, 
Devotamente, che son dolce, e belle, 

Che amore a chi lo serve fa sentire; 

Io dico a tutte quante, et primo a quelle, 
Che son vaghe et gentile, e in sul fiorire; 
Gustate ben queste allegrezze sante, 

Che amor ve ne contenti tutte quante. 



438 


POESIE 


Prima Allegrezza, che conciede amore 
Si e mirar dua piatosa occhi fiso, 

Esciene un vago, bel, dolce splendore ; 
Veder mover la bocca un dolce riso, 

Le man, la gola, e modi pien d’ honore; 

L’ andar, ch’ uscita par del paradiso; 

Ogni atto, e movimento, che si faccia, 

Et cosi prima un cor gentil s’ allaccia. 

La seconda allegrezza, che amor dona, 

E, quando ho gratia di toccar la mano 
Accortamente, ove si balla, o suona, 

O in altro modo stringnerla pian piano ; 

Et mentreche si giuoca, o si ragiona, 

Gittar certe parole, et non in vano; 

Toccare alquanto, et stringner sopra a’ panni 
In modo, che chi e intorno, se ne inganni. 
Terza allegrezza, qual Amor conciede, 

E quando ella una tua lettera accetta, 

E degna ch rispondere, e far fede 
Di propria man, che el collo al giogo metta; 
Bene e duro colui, che, quando vede 
Si dolce pegno, lacrime non getta; 

Leggiela cento volte, e non si satia, 

Et con dolci sospiri amor ringratia. 

Piii dolce assai quest’ allegrezza quarta, 

Se ti conduci a dir qualche parole 
A solo a solo, a far del tuo cor carta, 

Et dire a boccha ben dove ti duole; 

Se advien, che amor le some ben comparta, 
Senti dir cose da fermare el sole : 

Dolci pianti, et sospiri, et maladire 
Usci, et finestre, che ti puo impedire. 

Chi puo gustar questa quinta allegrezza 
Puo dir, che amor, e il suo servitio piaccia, 
Se advien, che baci con gran tenerezza 
Un’ amorosa, vagha, e gentil faccia, 

Le labra, et clentro ov’ e tanta clolcezza, 

La gola, el petto, et le candide braccia, 

Et tutte 1’ altre membre dolce, et vaghe, 
Lasciando spesso e segni delle piaghc. 


439 


DI LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 

Questa sesta allegrezza, cli’ io dico hora, 

E il venir quasi alia conclusione; 

Et a quel fin, perche ogni huom s’ innamora, 
Et si sopporta ogni aspra passione; 

Chi T ha provato, et chi lo prova ancora, 

Sa che dolcezza, et che consolatione 
E quella, di poter sanza sospetto 
Tenere il suo signore in braccio stretto. 

Vien drieto a questa 1’ ultima allegrezza; 

Che amore in fin pur contentar ci vuole; 
Non si puo dir con quanta gentilezza, 

Con che dolci sospir, con che parole, 

Si perviene a questa ultima allegrezza, 

Come si piange dolcemente, e duole; 

Fassi certi atti alhor, chi non vuol fingere, 
Ch’ un dipintore non sapre’ dipingere. 
Queste sono allegrezze, che Amor da, 

O donne, a chi lo serve fedelmente, 

Pero gustile, e pruovile chi ha 
Bellezza, et gentilezza, eta florente, 

Che perder tempo duole a chi piu sa; 
Queste allegrezze, ch J io ho detto al presente, 
Chi le dice, et prova con divotione 
Non puo morire sanza extrema untione. 
Questo povero Cieco, quale ha detto 
Queste allegrezze, a voi si racomanda, 

Amor 1’ ha cosi concio el poveretto, 

Come vedete, et cieco attorno il manda, 
Yorrebbe qualche carita in effetto, 

Almen la gratia vostra v’ addimanda; 
Eategli qualche ben, donne amorose, 

Che gustar possa delle vostre cose. 

El poveretto e gia condotto a tale, 

Che non ha con chi fare el Carniasciale. 


i 


440 


POESIE 


C&NZONE. 

Prenda piata ciascun della mia doglia, 

Giovane, et donne, et sia chiunche si voglia. 

Sempre servito io ho con pura fede 
Una, la qual credea fussi pietosa, 

Et che dovessi haver di me merzede, 

Et non, come era, fussi disdegnosa; 

Hor m’ ho perduto il tempo, et ogni cosa, 
Che si rivolta, come al vento foglia. 

O lasso a me ! ch’ io non credetti mai, 

Che sua occhi leggiadri, e rilucenti 
Fussin cagione a me di tanti guai, 

Di tanti pianti, et di tanti lamenti; 

Ah crudo amore, hor come gliel consenti ? 
Di tanta crudelta suo core spoglia. 

O lasso a me, questo non e quel merto, 

Ch’ io aspettava di mia fede intera, 

Questo non e quel, che mi fu offerto; 

Questo ne’ patti nostri, Amor, non era; 
Folle e colui, che in tua promessa spera, 

E sotto quella vive in pianti, e in doglia. 

Cantato in parte vi ho la doglia mia, 

Che vi debba haver mosso haver piatate; 

Et quanto afflitta la mia vita sia, 

Perche di me compassione habbiate; 

Et prego Amor, che piii felice siate, 

Et vi contenti d 5 ogni vostra voglia. 

CANZONE. 

Con tua promesse, et tua false parole, 

Con falsi risi, et con vago sembiante, 

Donna, menato hai il tuo fedele amante, 
Sanza altro fare; onde m’ incresce, et duole. 


DI LORENZO DE MEDICI. 


441 


Io ho perduto drieto a tua bellezza, 

Gia tanti passi per quella speranza, 

La quale mi die tua gran gentilezza, 

Et la belta, che qualunche altra avanza; 
Fidomi in lei, et nella mia costanza, 

Ma insino a qui non ho, se non parole. 

Di tempo in tempo gia tenuto m’ hai 
Tanto, ch’ io posso numerar molti anni, 

Et aspettavo pur, di tanti guai 
Ristorar mi volessi, et tanti affanni; 

Et conosco hor, che mi dileggi, et inganni: 
La fede mia non vuol da te parole. 

Donna, stu m’ami, come gia m’ hai detto, 

Fa, ch’ io ne vegga qualche sperantia; 

Deh non mi tener piu in contanto aspetto, 
Che forse non haro piu patientia, 

Se vuoi usare in verso me dementia, 

Non indugiare, et non mi dar parole. 

Va canzonetta, et priega el mio Signore, 

Che non mi tenga piu in dubbio sospeso, 
Di, che mi mostri una volta il suo core, 

Et se e perduto il tempo, ch’ io ho speso, 
Come io hard il suo pensiero inteso, 

Prendo partito, et non vo’ piu parole. 


CANZONE. 

Io prego Dio, che tutti i mal parlanti 
Facci star sempre in gran dolori, e pianti. 

E prego voi, o gentil donne, e belle, 

Che non facciate stima di parole, 

Pero che chi tien conto di novelle, 

D’ ogni piacer privare al fin si suole; 
Honestamente, e liete star si vuole, 

Vivere in gioie, et in piaceri, e canti. 


442 


POESIE 


Deh lasciam dir chi vorra pur mal dire, 

E non guardiamo al lor tristo parlare ; 
Allegro si vuol vivere, e morire, 

Mentre che in giovinezza habbiamo a stare; 
E chi vorra di noi mal favellare, 

El cor per troppa invidia se gli schianti. 

Canzona, truova ciascheduno amante, 

E le donne leggiadre, alte, e gentile, 
Ricorda lor, che ciascun sia costante 
Al suo amore con animo virile; 

Perche il temer parole e cosa vile 
Ne fu usanza mai di veri amanti. 


CANZONE. 

I’ ho d’ amara dolcezza il mio cor pieno. 
Come amor vuole, e d’ un dolce veneno: 

Nessuno e piu di me heto, e contento, 
Nessuno merta maggior compassione; 

La dolcezza, et dolor, che insieme sento, 

Di rider damni, e sospiri cagione; 

Non pub intender si dolce passione, 

Scusa non fo, chi non ha gentil core. 

Amore et honestate, et gentillezza, 

A chi misura ben, sono una cosa: 

Per me e perduta in tutto ogni bellezza, 
Ch’ e posta in donna altera, et disdegnosa; 
Chi riprender mi pub, s’ 1 son piatosa, 
Quanto honesta comporta, et gentil core ? 

Riprenderammi chi ha si dura mente, 

Che non conoschi li amorosi rai: 

Io prego amore, che chi amor non sente 
Nol faccia degno di sentirla mai; 

Ma chi T osserva fedelmente assai, 

Ardali sempre col suo foco il core. 


DI LORENZO DE* MEDICI. 

Sanza ragion riprendami chi vuole, 

Se non ha cor gentil, non ho paura; 
II mio constante amor vane parole 
Mosse da invidia, poco stima o cura, 
Disposta son, mentre la vita dura, 

A seguir sempre si gentil amore. 


SONETTO. 

HERMELINO EQUO SILE PUELL.E UTENDUM MISSO. 

Se come Giove trasformossi in toro, 

Anch’ io potessi pigliar tua figura, 

Hermellin mio, senza darti tal cura, 

Portare vorre’ io stesso il mio thesoro. 

Non si da lungi, ne con tal martoro, 

Ne pria nell’ onde mai con tal paura 
Portato harei quell’ Angioletta pura, 

Che hora m’ e donna, et forse poi sia alioro. 

Ma poiche cosi va, Hermellino mio, 

Tn solo porterai soave et piano, 

La pretiosa salrna, e ’1 mio desio ; 

Guarda non molestar con fren sua mano, 
Ubidisci colei, che ubidisch’ io, 

Poiche si tosto Amor vuole, che amiano. 


SONETTO. 

Eugiendo Loth con la sua famiglia 
La citta, ch’ arse per divin giuditio; 
Guardando indrieto, et visto el gran supplitio, 
La donna immobil forma di sal piglia. 

Tu hai fuggito, et e gran maraviglia, 

La citta, ch’ arde sempre in ogni vitio • 
Sappi anima gentil, che ’1 tuo offitio 
E non voltare a lei giammai le ciglia. 


443 


444 


POESIE. 


Per ritrovarti il buon pastore eterno 
Lascia el greggie, o smarrita pecorella, 
Trnovati, e lieto in braccio ti riporta. 

Perse Euridice Orfeo gia in sulla porta, 
Libera quasi, per voltarsi a quella; 
Pero non ti voltar piu alio inferno. 


SONETTO. 

Segui, Anima divota, quel fervore, 

Che la bonta divina al petto spira, 

Et dove dolcemente chiama, et tira 
La voce, o pecorella, del pastore : 

In questo nuovo tuo divoto ardore 

Non sospetti, non sdegni, invidia, o ira, 
Speranza certa al sommo bene aspira, 
Pace, et dolcezza, et fama in suave odore. 

Se pianti, o sospir semini talvolta 
In questa santa tua felice insania, 

Dolce, et eterna poi la ricolta. 

“ Populi meditati sunt mania” 

Lasciali dire, et siedi, et Cristo ascolta, 

O nuova cittadini di Bettania. 


IL FINE. 


APPENDIX. 































































. 











APPENDIX. 


No. I. p. 9. 

Ex adnotationibus et monumentis Ang. Fabronii ad vitam Laar. 

Medicis pertinentibus. 

In libro perantiquo inscripto : Notizie della Famiglia dei Medici: lisec 
in proemio leguntur. 

Ai Nome di Dio mccclxxiii. di Gennajo. 

A1 nome di Dio e della sua Santissima Madre Madonna Santa Maria 
e di tutta la corte del Paradiso checcidia gratia di bene fare e di bene 
dire. 

Io Filigno di Chonte de’ Medici veggendo le passate fortune di guerre 
citanesche e di fuori, e le fortunose pistolenze di mortality che Dome- 
nidio a mandate in terra, e che si teme che mandi, vigiendole a nostri 
vicini, faro memoria delle cose passate chio vedro, che possano essere 
di bisongno sapere a voi che rimarrete o verrete dietro amme, a cio che 
voi le troviate, se bisongno fosse, per ciauno chaso: pregando voi che 
scriviate bene per loinanzi, e che conserviate quelle terre e chase, che 
troverete inscritte in questro libro, la maggiore parte aquistate per la 
dengna memoria del nobile cavaliere Mess. Giovanni di Chonte meo fra- 
tello, dopo la di cui morte io formo questo libro, levando del suo e 
daltri, e priegovi, che questo libro guardiate bene, e tengniate en luogho 
segreto, sicch& ninvenisse a mano altrui, e si perchfe vi potrebbe essere 
de bisongno per lonanzi, come ora bisongna a noi, che ci conviene tro- 
vare carte di c. anni per chagioni, che nanzi troverete inscritto, peroche 
gli stati si mutano, e non anno fermezza. 

Ancora vi priego, che non solamente conserviate lavere, ma conser¬ 
viate lo stato aquistato pe nostri passati, il quale & grande, e maggiore 
soleva essere, e comincia a manchare per carestia di valenti uomini 
chabbiamo, de’ quale solevamo avere gran quantita. 

Ed era tanta la nostra grandigia, che si dicea, tusse com uno de’ 
Medici, e ogni uomo ci temea ; e anchora si dice, quando un cittidino 
fa una forza o ingiuria altrui, se gli el facesse uno de’ Medici, che si 
direbbe: anchora & grandissima e di stato d’ amichi e di ricchezza 
piaccia a Dio conservarlarci. 

E oggi in questo di, lodato Idio, siamo uomeni intorno cinquanta. 


448 


APPENDIX, II. 


E’ nota poi chio naqqui, sono morti di casa nostra intorno a cento 
uomeni; e di pochi e famiglia, e oggi siamo male a fanciulli, cioe 
nabiamo pochi. 

I scrivero in piu parti questo libro, e prima mettero note di charte, 
quanto potro sapere e dote, fini, compromessi e altre, poi metterb tutte 
le compere, e che fece le charte, poi mettero tutte le, &c. case e terre 
confinate coggi possediamo, &c. 


No. II. p. 9. 

Jo. Lamii. Delicice Eruditorum , vol. xii. p. 169. Flor. 1/42. 

Copia di Parlamento dell' anno 1433. e. 34. levato da un libro di pro¬ 
pria mano di Cosimo de' Medici , dove scriveva i suoi ricordi d' im- 
portanza ; e fu levata detta copia da Luigi Guicciardini. 

Rioordo come a di primo di Settembre entro all’ Uffizio del Sig. 
Giovanni di Matteo dello Scelto, Donato di Cristofano Sannini, Carlo 
di Lapo Corsi, Iacopo Berlinghieri, Mariotto di Mess. Niccolo Baldovi- 
netti, Bartolommeo di Bartolommeo Spini, Bernardo di Vieri Guadagni 
Gonfaloniere di Giustizia, e Berto di Messer Marco di Cenni Albergatore ; 
e quando furono tratti si comincio a mormorare, che al tempo loro si 
farebbe novita nella Terra; e fummi scritto in Mugello dove era stato 
piii mesi per levarmi dalle contese, e divisioni, ch’ erano nella citta, ch’ 
io tornassi, e cosi tornaia di 4. II di medesimo visitai il Gonfaloniere, 
e gli altri, come insieme Giovanni dello Scelto, il quale, reputava molto 
amico, ed erami obligato, e il simile degli altri; e dicendo loro quello si 
deceva, ei prestamente tutti lo negarono, e che fussi di buon animo, 
che volevano lasciare la Terra, come 1’ avevano trovata. Ordinarono a’ 
5. una Pratica d’ otto Cittadini, due per quartieri, dicendo volevano 
con il consiglio di questi fare ogni loro deliberazione, e furono questi, 
Messer Giovanni Guicciardini, Bartolommeo Ridolfi, Ridolfo Peruzzi, 
Tommaso di Lapo Corsi, Messer Agnolo Acciaioli, Giovanni di Messer 
Rinaldo Gianfigliazzi, Messer Rinaldo degli Albizi, ed io Cosimo. E 
benche per la Terra, come si b detto, fusse sparso dovessino fare novita, 
pure avendo da loro quello aveva, e reputandoli amici, non vi prestassi 
fede. Segui che a di 7. la mattina soto colore di volere la detta Pratica, 
mandarono per me, e giunto in Palazzo trovai la maggior parte, de com- 
pagni, e stando a ragionare, dopo buono spazio mi fu comandato per 
parte de Signori, che io andassi su di sopra, e dal Capitano de’ Fanti 
fui messo in una Camera, che si chiama la Barberia, e fui serrato den- 
tro; e sentendosi, tutta la Terra si sollevo. Il di fecero consiglio de* 
Richiesti, e per lo Gonfaloniere fu detto, che quello avevano fatto di 
ritenermi, era per buona cagione, come altra volta sarebbe loro noto ; e 
che di questo non volevano consiglio, e licenziarono i Richiesti: e li 
Signori per le sei fave mi confinarono a Padova per un anno. Fatta 


APPENDIX, II. 


449 


questaazione fa subito avvisato Lorenzo mio fratello, eh’ era in Mugello, 
e Averardo mio cugino, eh’ era a Pisa, e cosi fu fatto intendere a Niccolo 
da Tolentino Capitano di Guerra del Comune, ch’ era molto mio amico. 
Lorenzo venne ll di medesimo in Firenze, e mandarono i Signori per 
lui che andasse a Palazzo, gli fu significato il perchfc, subito si parti, e 
ritornossi al Trebbio. Averardo si parti da Pisa presto, che avevano 
dato ordine farlo pigliare la, e cosi se ci avessero preso tutti a tre, ci 
facessero male arrivare. Niccolo da Tolentino sentito il caso a di 8. 
venne la mattina con tutta la sua Compagnia alia Lastra, e con animo 
di fare novita nella Terra, perche io fussi lasciato; e cosi subito che si 
sent! il caso nell’ Alpe di Romagna, e di piu altri luoghi, venne a 
Lorenzo gran quantita di fanti. Fu confortato il Capitano, e cosi 
Lorenzo a non fare novita, che poteva esser cagione di farmi fare novita 
nella persona, e cosi feciono; e bench& chi consiglio questo fussino 
parenti, e amici, e a buon fine, non fu buono consiglio ; perche se si 
fussino fatti innanzi, ero libero, e chi era stato cagione di questo, restava 
disfatto. Ma tutto si vuol dire fussi per lo meglio, perche ne segui 
maggior bene, e con piu mio onore, come innanzi faro menzione. Non 
parendo agli amici miei si dovessi far novita, come ho detto, el Capitano 
si torno indietro alle stanze, mostrando esser venuto per altra cagione, 
e Lorenzo se n’ and6 a Venezia coi miei figli, e portonne quelle pote 
de’ denari, e delle cose sottili. E Signori confinarono il detto Lorenzo 
per un anno a Venezia, e me a Padova per 5. anni, e Averardo a Napoli 
per 5 anni. Dipoi a di 9. feciono sonare a parlamento, e vennero in 
Piazza quelli ch’ erano stati cagione della novita con fanti, avevano 
fatto venire de fuori ventitre Cittadini, e fu piccolo numero, e poco 
popolo vi si trovo, perche in vero il forte de’ Cittadini n’ erano mal 
contenti. 

Per Parlamento dierono Balia a’ Cittadini, come si costumava in tali 
casi, e confinarono me per anni 10. a Padova, Lorenzo per anni 5. a 
Venezia, Averardo per anni 10. a Napoli, Orlando de’ Medici per anni 
10. in Ancona, e Giovanni d’ Andrea de Messer Alamamio e Bernardo 
d’ Alamanno de’ Medici a Rimini; e fecero la mia famiglia de’ Medici 
de’ Grandi, eccetto i figliuoli di Messer Veri, perche Niccolo era Gon- 
faloniere; eccetto ancora i figliuoli d’ Antonio di Giovenco de’ Medici, 
perche Bernardetto era molto amato dal Capitano della Guerra, e per 
contemplazione del Capitano mostrarono eccettuare il detto Averardo e 
fratelli; feciono piu ordini contro a noi, e massime che io non potessi 
vendere possessioni, ne denari di monte; e ritennommi in Palazzo in 
sino a di 3 d’ Ottobre. 

Sentendosi questo a Venezia, mandarono subito qui tre Ambasciatori, 

cioe Messer Luisi Storlando, Messer Tommaso Micheli, e.li 

quali con ogni istanza proccurarono, e concordarono la mia liberazione 
con offerire tenermi a Venezia, e promettere non farei contro alia Sig- 
noria, e obbedirei a quello mi fussi commandato; e benehe non faces- 
sono ottenere fussi libero, pure la venuta loro giovo assai, perche c’ 
era di quelli confortavano fussi morto, e ebbono promissione non mi 
sarebbe fatto offensione nella persona. Per simil modo mando qui il 
Marchese di Ferrara Ser Gherardino da Sabiglia al Capitano della Balia, 

29 



450 


APPENDIX, II. 


ch’ era Messer Lodovico del llonco da Modena, suddito del Marchese, 
a comandargli, clie se io gli fussi messo nelle mani, non ne facessi altro 
conto, clie se fussi Messer Lionardo suo figliuolo ; e che se ne fuggisse 
meco, e non dubitasse di danno, nk di nessuna altra cosa. 

Miritennero, siccome e detto, in sino a * 3. di Ottobre per due cagioni, 
la prima, perche potessero ottenere nella Balia nell’ ordinare la terra a 
loro modo; che quando non si riceva, minacciavano che mi farebbono 
morire, e per questa paura gli amici, e i parenti, che si trovavano nella 
Balia, beliberavano quello era loro messo innanzi. La seconda fu, che 
credettono, che per tenermi in prigione, e aver fatto io non mi potessi 
valere del mio, farci fallire ; il che non riusci loro, che non per questo 
perdessimo credito; ma da molti Mercatanti forestieri, e Signori, ci fu 
offerto, e mandato a Venezia gran somma di denari. In fine vedendo 
non riusciva loro il pensiero di farci fallire ; Bernardo Guadagni, offer- 
togli da due persone denari, cioe dal Capitano della Guerra fiorini 500. 
e dallo Spedalingo di S. Maria Nuova fiorini 500. i quali ebbe contanti, 
e Mario tto Balduinetti per mezzo di Baccio d’ Antonio di Baccio fiorini 
800. a di 3. d’ Ottobre la notte mi trassero di Palazzo, e menommi fuori 
della Porta a S. Gallo: ebbono poco animo, che se avessero voluto 
denari, 1* averebbono avuti diecimila, o piu, per uscir di pericolo. 

A di 4 di Ottobre il di di S. Francesco arrivai a Cutigliano nella 
montagna di Pistoia, e fui accompagnato da due degli otto della Guardia, 
cioe Francesco Soderini, e Cristofano .. del Chiaro. Dagli uomini della 
montagna fui presentato di biada e cera, come se fussi Ambasciadore. 
A di 5. mi partii, e venni a Fassano Terra del Marchese di Ferrara, e 
fui accompagnato da piu di 20. uomini della montagna. A di 6. arrivai 
a Modana, e il Governatore ch’ era Messer Piero . . venne a me per parte 
del Signore, mi visito, e presento, e la mattina mi fe dare compagnia, e 
guida. A di 7. arrivai al Bondeno, e 1’ altra mattina per acqua andai a 
Francolino ; stetti due giorni per aspettare Antonio Uguccione de’ Con- 
trari, che per parte del Marchese mi fece molte offerte. A di 11. arrivai 
a Venezia, dove mi venne incontro molti Gentiluomini nostri amici, 
insieme con Lorenzo ; e fui ricevuto, non come confinato, ma come 
Ambasciadore. La mattina seguente visitai la Signoria, e ringraziaila 
di quello aveva operato per la mia salute, mostrando riconoscere la vita 
da quella: fui ricevuto con tanto onore e tanta carita, che non si 
potrebbe dire, dolendosi delli affanni miei, & ofierando la Signoria, la 
Citta, F entrata loro, per ogni mio contentamento, e la casa : da molti 
Gentiluomini fui visitato, e presentato. A di 13. mi partj per andare a 
Padova, come m’ era comandato, e in -mia compagnia venne Messer 
Jacopo Donato, e m’ alloggio in una sua bella casa fornita di panni, e 
di letta, e di cose da mangiare per ogni gran maestro; e stette meco 
per infino ritornai a Venezia, che furono circa a di 20. A Padova 
venne a casa a me a visitarmi per parte della Signoria di Venezia, offe- 
rendomi tutto quello potesse fare per loro in mia coraplacenzia. Ho 
voluto fare ricordo dell’ onore che mi fu fatto per non essere ingrato in 
fame ricordo, e ancora perche fu cosa da non credere, essendo cacciato 
di casa, trovar tanto onore, perche si suol perdere gli amici con la for- 
tuna ; fu replicato a Lorenzo 1* onore avevo ricevuto, e per via de’ mer- 


APPENDIX, II. 451 

canti, e per un mazzieri de’ Signori, che venne meco insino a Padova, 
al quale fu comandato non ne dovesse parlare. 

Dipoi del mese di Decembre chiedendo io di grazia a Signori, di 
potere stare a Padova, e a Yenezia, e per lo territorio della Signoria di 
Venezia essendo de’ Signori Bartolommeo de Ridolfi Gonfaloniere di 
Giustizia, fu deliberato, e ottenni di potere stare per il territorio Vene- 
ziano, non m’ appressando a Firenze piu che 170. miglia; e questo 
fecero ancora a complacienzia della Signoria di Venezia, la quale per 
loro Ambasciatore, che fu Messer Andrea Donato, ne richieseno la 
Citta ; bene appiccorono questa grazia sotto gran pene, non si potessi 
piti rimuovermi, o farmi grazia di contini, come appare per la declara- 
zione fatta. 

Al tempo di questi Signori fu confinato Puccio, e Giovanni d’ Antonio 
di Puccio, i quali erano miei prineipali amici; e di poi al tempo de 
Priori seguenti, ch’ era Gonfaloniere Mariotto Scambrilla, fu confinato 
Messer Agnolo Acciaioli, per certe novelle aveva scritto a Puccio e a 
noi; le quali in vero non erano d’ importanza, ne da esserne cacciato. 

Ricordo che a di 1 Settembre 1434. entrarono de’ Signori Gio. di 
Mico Cappone, Caca di Buonaccorso Pitti, Niccolo di Cecco Donati 
Governatore di Giustizia, Piero d’ Antonio di Piero Feltriano, Toto 
Martini per artefici, Simone di Francesco Guiducci, e . ... di Tommaso 
Redditi, Baldassarri d’ Antonio di Santi, Neri di Domenico Bartoleni; 
e come furono tratti tutti i buoni Cittadini, presero vigore, e conforto, 
parendo fusse tempo di uscire dal mal governo avevano, il che prima 
averebbono fatto, se avessero avuto Signori che avessono voluto atten- 
dere; perche in vero tutto il Popolo, e tutti i buoni Cittadini, stavano 
mal contenti; e subito venne a me a Venezia Antonio di Ser Tommaso 
Masi, mandato da piu Cittadini, perche venissimo verso Firenze, offe- 
rendo, quando sentissono fussimo presi, si solleverebbono, e mettereb- 
bonci dentro ; e cosi da molti parenti, e amici eravamo continuo sol- 
lecitati. Parveci volere intendere 1’ animo de’ Signori con dire, non 
volevamo fare contro al volere della Signoria; e per questo mandammo 
da Venezia a Firenze Antonio Martelli, perche sentisse da’ Signori la 
loro intenzione, da’ quali ebbe buona risposta che venissimo, e cosi per 
fante proprio ci avviso per sua lettera ; la quale avuta ci partimmo da 
Venezia 29 di Settembre Lorenzo e io Cosimo ; e Averardo rimase a 
Venezia ammalato di febbre, che non poteva venire, e a’ 30. arrivamo 
al Ponte a Lago. Stemmo in casa dell’ Magnifico Uguccione, il quale 
insieme col Marchese, a nostra richiesta, aveva ordinato gran quantita 
di Fanti nella montagna di Modena, e del Frigano, e ancora 200. 
Cavalli aveva a suo soldo, perche venissono con noi, com’ era prima 
ordinato; e a di 1 d’ Ottobre essendo la mattina a udir Messa, avemmo 
un Corrieri d’ Antonio Salutati con lettere, per le quali ci avvisava, 
come sentendosi per la Terra 1’ animo de’ Signori, e presentendosi la 
nostra venuta, i nostri nemici avevano preso 1’ armi a di 26. cio&, 
Messer Rinaldo delli Albizi, Ridolfo Peruzzi, e piu altri in numero di 
600 persone : di poi la seramancando loro 1’ animo, e essendo mezzano 
d’ accordo per parte del Papa, Messer Giovanni Vitelleschi allora Vescovo 
di Recanati, e dipoi Arcivescovo di Firenze, e poi Cardinale, il quale era 
molto mio amico, si ridussono a S. Maria Novella dove abitava il Papa; 


452 


APPENDIX, II. 


e sentendo che gli amici nostri erano prowisti, e di gente, e d’ armi, per 
tema di loro persone, Messer Rinaldo, e Ormanno suo figliuolo, e Ridolfo 
Peruzzi, si rimasero la notte lk, e non vollero uscire; e chi era con loro 
si parti chi in qua, e chi in la, e andaronsi a disarmare. II perche i 
Signori fecero venire dentro gran numero di fanterie, che solo di 
Mugello, e dell’ Alpe, e di quello di Romagna, venne a casa nostra, pm 
di fanti 3000. e cosi fecero venire la compagnia di Niccolo da Tolentino ; 
e a di 29. il di di S. Michele fecero parlamento in su la piazza, dove fu 
tutto il Popolo armato che fu numero grandissimo e bene in punto, 

dettero la Balia a.Cittadini, e annullarono quello avevano fatto 

P anno passato, e il primo partito e deliberazione che fecero, fu che 
Cosimo e Lorenzo fussero restituiti ne’ primi onori, e annullato tutto 
quello fusse fatto contra di loro, che non vi fu 4. fave in contrario, con- 
fortandoci per parte di tutti a venire presto. E letta detta lettera subito 
la mandammo a Venezia, dove se ne fece gran festa, e noi andammo a 
visitare il Marchese, il quale dimostro maggior allegrezza di noi; rin- 
graziammolo de’ favori, che ci aveva prestati, e a di 2. ci partimmo di 
Ferrara, e a 3. fummo a Modana, dove fummo ricevuti con grand’ onore 
in casa del Marchese, e venneci incontro il Governatore e il Podestk, e 

molti Cittadini di Modana. A di 4. venimmo.e per la via sempre 

ci fu fatto le spese dal Marchese, e per tutto trovammo fanti, che erano 
ordinati a venire con noi, i quali licenziammo, perchk non era di bisogno; 
e a 5. venimmo a Cutigliano, e poi a Pistoia, e appunto in capo dell’ 
anno in quel medesimo di, cioe a 5 d’ Ottobre, e in quella medesima 
ora, rientrammo in su quello del Commune, e in quel medesimo luogo. 
Di questo ho fatto ricordo perche ci fu detto da pih persone devote, e 
buone, quando fummo cacciati, che non passerebbe 1’ anno che saremmo 
restituiti, e torneremmo a Firenze. Per la via trovammo molti Citta¬ 
dini, che ci venivano in contro, e a Pistoia tutto il Popolo si fece alia 
porta per vederci cosi armati, quando vi passammo, che non volemmo 
entrare dentro. Venimmo a di 6. a desinare al nostro luogo a Careggi, 
dove fu gran gente; i Signori vi mandarono a dire non entrassimo 
dentro, se non ce lo fecevano intendere, e cosi fecemo ; e tramontato'il 
Sole mandarono a dire che venissimo, e cosi ci movemmo con gran 
compagnia, e perche tutta la via, si stimava facessimo in sino a casa 
nostra, era piena, d’ uomini, e di donne, Lorenzo, ed io con un fami- 
glio, e un mazziere volgemmo lungo le mura, e venissimo dietro a’ Servi, 
e poi dietro a Santa Reparata, e dal Palazzo del Podesta, e dal Palazzo 
dell’ esecutore entrammo nel Palazzo de’ Signori, senza essere quasi 
veduti da persona, perche tutto il popolo era nella via larga, e da Casa 
nostra a aspettarci, e per questa cagione non vollero i Signori entras¬ 
simo di di per non far maggior tumulto nella Terra. Da’ Signori 
fummo ricevuti graziosamente, e ringraziatigli con quelle parole si 
richiedeva, vollero che insieme con pih altri Cittadini rimanessimo in 
Palazzo con le loro Signorie, e cosi fecemo. 

Trovammo prima che giugnessimo, era stato confinato Messer Rinaldo, 
e Ormanno suo figliuolo, Ridoflo Peruzzi, e molti altri Cittadini; e la 
Terra era pacificata, benchk continuamente in Piazza, e in Palazzo stes- 
sono buon numero di fanti armati, per sicurta del Palazzo. 

Dipoi in Calendi Novembre si fecero i Priori a mano di la dell’ acqua, 




APPENDIX, III. 


453 


Sandro di Giovanni Biliotti, Piero di Bartolommeo del Benino in Santa 
Croce, Andrea Nardi, e Lodovico da Yerrazzano, in Santa Maria Novella ; 
Giovanni Minerbetti Gonfaloniere di Giustizia, Brunetto Beccaio per 
Artefice in S. Giovanni, Ugolino Martelli, e Antonio di Ser Tommaso 
Masi. Questi Priori confinarono molti Cittadini, e cosi posarono a 
sedere molte famiglie sospette, e fecero molte cose in favore dello Stato ; 
e a loro tempo spiro la Balia data a pih Cittadini, e finirono li squittini, 
e rimasero le borse per 5. anni in mano degli Accoppiatori, cioe le borse 
del Priorato; e potranno de’ Priori e Gonfaloniere di Giustizia, quelle 
vorranno fare a loro piacimento. E del mese di Gennaio prossimo fui 
il primo tratto delle borse dello squittino per Gonfaloniere di Giustizia, 
e al mio tempo non si confino, n& si fece male a persona. Ma Fran¬ 
cesco Guadagni, e piu altri, i quali trovai nelle mani del Capitano della 

Balia, & avevano raffermo la.lo operai in forma non morirono, 

ma furono condennati in perpetua carcere, e cosi al mio tempo feci 
levare certi fanti armati, che stavano alia porta del Palazzo, ridurre il 
Palazzo, e la piazza come solevano stare innanzi alia no vita, e feci pro- 
lungare la lega con la Signoria di Venezia per 10. anni. 


No. III. p. 14. 

Ex MS. sec. xv. penes auctorem. 

Leonardi Aretini Epistola ad Cosmum Medicem de conversione Episto- 
larum Platonis e Grceco in Latinum. 

Inter clamosos strepitus negotiorumque procellas, quibus Florentina 
palatia, quasi Euripus quidam, sursum deorsumque assidue aestuant, 
cum singula non modo dicta, sed verba etiam interrumperentur, tamen, 
ut potui, Latinas effeci Platonis epistolas, quas nunc tibi dono dedo 
atque mitto; putans multo pretiosius quiddam ad te mittere quam si 
tantidem pondo auri dilargirer. A te certe longe carius gratiusque 
existimandum. Etenim aurum tibi abunde est, Sapientia vero nec tibi 
nec alteri cuiquam hominum abunde. Deinde quae comparatio justa 
esse potest aurum inter ac sapientiam ? Ad quam non solum opulentia 
ista privatorum eximia, verum etiam regum opes atque potentia, fas- 
cesque & imperia comparata vilescunt. Fragilia nempe bona, ac 
nescio an omnino bona sint existimanda, quae auferri nobis atque eripi 
possunt, & quorum possessio usque adeo imbecilla est & incerta, ut 
nemo exploratum habere queat ad vesperas usque esse duraturam : 
sapientiae vero ac virtutis stabilis est firmaque possessio. Neque enim 
eripi ab homine ulla vi possunt, neque fortunae subjacent ictibus. Nec 
eas, ut philosophis placet, labefactat oblivio. Praeterea cum homo 
constet ex animo & corpore, ac utriusque particulae bona & quasi dotes 
quaedam existant, ut animi quidem sapientia, fortitudo, justitia, caete- 
raeque virtutes, corporis autem valitudo, forma, firmitas, patientia labo- 




454 


APPENDIX, IV. 


rum, pernicitas, et hujuscemodi alia, nemini dubium esse potest, quanto 
animus corpori dignitate, praestat, tanto bona animi bonis corporis ante- 
cellere. Divitiae vero & opes, nee animi sunt neque corporis bona. 
Itaque ne nostra quidem ilia dicuntur, sed externa & a corporis digni¬ 
tate longe superantur. Itaque comparare divitias ad sapientiam, nihil 
est aliud quam infimi gradus bonum cum supremo conferre. Et de liis 
quidem satis. Traductio autem harum epistolarum ita vehementer mihi 
jocunda fuit, ut cum Platone ipso loqui, eumque intueri coram viderer. 
Quod eo magis in his mihi accidit quam in caeteris ejus libris, quia hie 
neque fictus est sermo nec alteri attributus; sed procul ab ironia atque 
figmento, in re seria actionem exigente, ab illo summo ac sapientissimo 
homine prescriptus. Saepe enim praestantes viri, doctrinam vivendi 
aliquam prosecuti, multa prsecipiunt aliis, quae ipsi dum agunt praestare 
non possunt. Ex quo fit ut aliter loquantur, aliter vivant. Cerno in- 
tegritatem hominis incorruptam, libertatem animi, fidei sanctitatem. 
Inter haec prudentiam eximiam, justitiam singularem, constantiam vero 
non protervam neque inhumanam; sed quae & consuli sibi & suaderi 
permittat. In amicos vero tantam benevolentiam, ut commoda sua 
propria illorum commodis posthabere videatur. Ad haec autem dii 
boni! quae consiliorum suorum explicatio, quae circumspectio, quae 
observatio, quae modestia, jam vero de adeunda republica quae appetitio, 
quae ratio, quae consideratio, quae religio ! Fateor in his magnum & 
absolutum quendam virum bonum mihi ad imitandum proponi. Imi- 
tationes vero nonnunquam efficaciores sunt quam doctrinae, ut in ora- 
toribus & histrionibus intueri licet; quorum artes difficilius quidam 
addiscunt, facilius imitantur. Ego certe plus utilitatis lectione harum 
paucarum epistolarum precepisse me intelligo, quam ex multis volumi- 
nibus antea perlectis ; ita mihi viva haec quodammodo & spirantia, ilia 
vero intermortua & umbratilia videbantur. Quae enim in re agenda 
mihi ambiguitas esse queat, in qua videam Platonem ita fecisse. Tu 
igitur has epistolas multum lege quaeso, ac singulas earum sententias 
memoriae commenda, praecipue vero quae de republica monent. Intel- 
liges vero quid dicam si cun eta diligenter triteque perlegeris. Nec eo 
ista scribo quod tuae aut intelligentiae aut voluntati diffidam, sed quod 
propositum tuum, auctoritate summi viri, confirmandum & corrobo- 
randuni censeo. Yale, & munus hoc meum non tarn verbis, quam lec¬ 
tione operibusque tibi non frusta collatum ostendas. 


No. IV. p. 32. 

Ex Aug. Fabronii Monum. ad vitam Cosmi Med. 

Pius PP. II. Cosmo Medici. 

Dilecte fili, Salutem & Apostolicam behedictionem. Mors bonae me¬ 
moriae Joliannis filii tui, quam modo intellexerimus-, molesta nobis plu- 
rimum fuit, non ob id solum, quia per naturam est immatura, sed quia 



APPENDIX, 1Y. 


455 


setati, & valetudini tuse multum adversa. Consolandus, esses omnibus 
lions, & vita in dulcedine Spiritus protrabenda: sed hoc nos conso- 
latur, quia sapiens es, & exercitatus in fortunae casibus, & moderari 
tuis sensibus potes. Ita rogamus te, Cosme, facias, & convertas ad 
Deum oculos, & illi benedicas, & in bonum omnia deputes. Neque 
enim scimus arcana Dei; novit ille solus quid nobis expediat, & quorum 
indigemus. Credamus nobiscum & cum illo actum misericorditer esse. 
Venturorum nec tu eras conscius, nec ille. Hortamur tuam nobilitatem, 
Fili, ut voluntatem hanc Domini patienter feras, sicut te ferre audimus, 
neque dolori indulgeas. iEtati tuse mceror non convenit, & valetudini 
contrarius est. Expedit nobis, patriae tuae, & toti Italiae, ut quam diu- 
tissime vivas, Johannem filium bonis operibus, & piis prosequere. 
Aliud ex tota substantia tua non stetit, eleemosinae, devotio, & oratio 
sunt sua suffragia. Haec pauca ad te scripsimus, ut tristitiam nostram 
agnosceres, & de tua nos esse solicitos intelligeres. Singula in partem 
caritatis accipito. Datum Romae apud Sanctum Petrum, sub anulo 
piscatoris die non. Novembris, 1463. Pontificatus nostrianno sexto. 

Pio II. S. P. Cosmus Medices. 

Yideor te legens, Beatissime Pater, tanta est verborum vis, & sapi- 
entia, eum vere audire me consolantem, cujus tu vere vicem geris. Quid 
enim melius, aut sanctius, & plane divinus scribi potuit ? Igitur hac 
consolatione tua, Beatissime Pater, id est affectum, ut qui prius utile 
esse, & laude dignum putarem quam minimum dolere (nam nihil haud 
possum) nunc etiam nefas aliter ac tu suadeas, facere existimem. Itaque 
do operam pro viribus, & pro infirmitate animi mei, ut feram aequo animo 
tam adversum casum, ut mihi quidem visum est. Sed Deus novit solus 
quid adversum sit. Nos nescimus, ut sapienter, religioseque scribis. 
Quanquam cum Johanne filio nunquam male actum putavi, qui non e 
vita, sed e morte migrasset ad vitam. Est enim mors hsec, quam nos 
vo cam us vitam. Ilia vere vita est, quse seterna est. Si quid in ejus 
obitu mali videbatur, nobis, qui ejus, ut opinamur, indigebamus, id 
evenisse judicavi. Sed nos nescimus quid petamus. Confido fore ut 
Deus misereatur etiam nostri, qui relicti sumus, secundum multitudinem 
miserationum suarum, quoniam suavis est Dominus, & multum miseri- 
cors. De vita autem mea, quod Summus Pontifex Christi Yicarius 
sollicitus est, etiam felicitati aseribo. Curabo id quidem non his de 
causis, quibus tu pro divina humanitate tua curandum scribis. Quid 
enim jam nos possumus ? Aut quid unquam potuimus ? Sed ut Dei 
tam excellens vivendi munus non neglexisse, aut tot, tantorumque 
beneficiorum divina pietate susceptorum oblitus fuisse videar. Tu, 
quo id facere possim, Beatissime Pater, velim pro me filiolo tuse Sanc- 
titatis ad Deum preces porrigas. 



456 


APPENDIX, V. 


No. Y. P. 38. 

Extat in Tabulario Mediceo. 

Copia cT una lettera scritta da Pietro di Cosimo, a Lorenzo e Giuliano 
de' Medici , da Carreggi a Cafaggiolo il di 26. Luglio 1464. 

Scripsivi jer 1* altro, & avvisai come Cosimo era aggravate dal male, 
di poi mi pare che si vadi logorando, & questo pare a iui medesimo, in 
modo che Martedi sera voile che in camera non fossi, se non Monna 
Contessina et io. Comincio da principio a dire tutta la sua vita, dipoi 
entro sul governo della citta, e poi seguitando a quello de’ trafichi, di 
poi alia cura familiare delle possessione et di casa, et sopra e fatti di 
voi due, confortando, essendo voi di buono ingegno, io vi dovessi alle- 
vare bene, perche mi leveresti assai faticlia, & che di due cose si doleva, 
1’ una di non haver fatto quanto arebbe voluto & potuto fare, 1’ altra 
che essendo io mal sano mi lasciava con assai noia. Di poi disse non 
volere fare testamento alcuno, perche mai non fu suo pensiero di farlo, 
eziandio vivente Giovanni, perche sempre ci vide con buono amore & in 
buono accordo & stima, & che quando Iddio facesse altro di lui, non 
voleva alcuna pompa, ne dimostratione nell’ esequie, & come in vita 
altra volta mi aveva detto, mi ricordava dove voleva la sepoltura sua in 
S. Lorenzo; & tutto disse con tanto ordine & con tanta prudentia, & 
con uno animo si grande, che fu una maraviglia, soggiungendo che era 
vissuto lunga eta, & in modo che si partiva molto ben contento, quando 
Dio lo volessi. Di poi jermattina di buon ora si fece levare, calzare & 
vestire di tutto, essendoci il Priore di S. Lorenzo, quel di S. Marco, e 
della Badia; si confesso dal Priori di S. Lorenzo & di poi fece dire la 
messa, alia quale tutta rispose come da sano. Dipoi domandato delli 
articoli della fede, a tutti rispose per lettera, fece la confessione lui 
medesimo, & prese il S. Sacramento con tanta devotione, quanto si 
potessi dire, havendo prima chiesto perdono a ciascuno. Le quali cose 
m’ hanno fatto crescere 1’ animo & la speranza verso Messer Domenedio, 
& benclie secondo il senso, io non sia senza dolore, pure veduto la 
grandezza dell’ animo suo, la dispositione buona, sono in gran parte 
contento, che viene a quel fine che tutti habbiamo a fare. Lui si stette 
jeri assai bene, & cosi questa nocte passata; pure rispetto all’ et& grave 
non posso sperar molto del suo guarire. Fate fare per lui orationi ai 
Frati del Bosco, & fate dar elemosina come pare ad voi, pregando Iddio 
ce lo lasci ancora per un tempo, sendo per lo meglio. Et voi pigliate 
exemplo, che siete giovani, & con buono animo pigliate la parte vostra 
delle fatiche, poiche Messer Domenedio dispone cosi, & fate conto d’ 
essere huomini, essendo garzoni, che cosi lo richiede lo stato vostro & 
il caso presente, & sopra tutto attendete a quello, che vi puo fare onore 
& utile, perche e venuto il tempo che bisogna che voi facciate sperientia 
di voi; et vivete col timor di Dio, & sperate bene. Quello che seguira 
di Cosimo vi advisero. Noi attendiamo ognora un medico di Milano, 
ma ho piu speranza in Messer Domenedio, che in altri. Non altro ai 
presente. Chareggi ai 26. Luglio 1464. 


APPENDIX, VI. 


457 


No. YI. p. 38. 


Ricordi di Piero de Medici. 

Ricordo che a di 1 d’ Agosto, 1464. a ore xxn|. Cosimo di Giovanni 
d’ Averardo de’ Medici passo di questa presente vita, essendo stato pel 
passato molto vexato da dolore di giunture, benche d’ ogni altro male 
fosse sano, salvo che in quest’ ultimo fine della vita sua per spazio d’ un 
mese fosse oppressato per difecto d’ orina con alquanta febbre. Era 
d’ eta d’ anni d’ lxxvii. grande e bello uomo, e di perfecta natura, 
excepto e’ mali sopradecti. Fu uomo di grandissima prudentia, e vie 
maggior bonta, el piu riputato ciptadino, & di maggior credito che 
avesse la nostra cipta per lunghi tempi; e quello che ebbe maggior 
fede, & piu amato da tucto el popolo: ne si ricorda morire alcuno a 
questa eta con migliore grazia e maggior fama, e di cui piu dolesse a 
ciascuno; e meritamente, perche non si trovo nessuno che con ragione 
si dolesse di lui: ma furono molti, e’ quali da lui erano stati serviti, & 
sovvenuti, & ajutati; di che piu si dilecto che alcun altro : e non sola- 
mente parenti e amici, ma gli strani, e ancora, che par difficile a cre- 
derlo, non che a farlo, chi non gli era amico; col quale laudabil modo 
si fece piu e piu persone, che per difecto loro e d’ altri non gli erano 
amici, amicissimi. Fu molto liberale, caritativo, e misericordioso, e 
molte elemosine fece in sua vita; e non solamente nelle cipta e dis- 
tretto, ma eziandio ne’ luoghi molto lontani, in accrescimento di Reli- 
gioni, e reparatione di Chiese, & generalmente d’ ogni ragione di 
beni, che accadesse. Fu per sua sapientia molto extimato e creduto da 
tutti e’ Signori e Potentie d’ Italia, e fuori d’ Italia. Fu onorato di 
tutti gli uficj degni nella nostra cipta; di fuori non voile mai accettare 
alcuno oficio. Esercito le piu honorate et importanti legationi, che a’ 
suoi tempi accadessero alia nostra Repubblica: & nella ciptii fece ricchi 
molti uomini per mezzo de’ traffichi suoi, oltre alia ricchezza che di lui 
rimase, nel quale esercizio fu non solamente savio, ma bene avventurato 
mercatante. Mori, come si dice, el di sopra decto, nella casa e luogo 
nostro da Careggi, avendo prima ricevuti tutti e Sacramenti di Sancta 
Chiesa con grandissima divotione, e riverentia: non voile fare testa- 
mento, ma liberamente el tutto rimise in me. Fu seppellito el di 
seguente nella Chiesa di S. Lorenzo in terra, e nella sepoltura innanzi 
per lui ordinata, senza alcun a honoranza, o pompa funebre, dove non 
voile altri che Calonaci & Preti di decta Chiesa, & Frati di S. Marco, e’ 
Calonaci Regolari della Badia di Fiesole; ne con piu e manco cera che 
a uno mediocre mortorio si richiede, perche cosi dispose per 1’ ultima 
sua parola; affermando, le limosine e altri beni doversi fare in vita, che 
giovano piu che di poi, come aveva facto lui. II perche non ostanta 
questa, volendo io satisfare al debito filiale verso la pieta paterna, feci 
fare quanto si richiedeva, & era conveniente a chi restava; et ordinai le 
elemosine, & uficj, che nel presente libro seguiranno. 


458 


APPENDIX, VII. 


No. VII. P. 48. 

Ex Monum. Ang. Fabronii. 

Laurentio de Medicis Filio Carissimo, Romce, Petrus Medices. 

Florentice, die 15 Martii, 1465. 

Io mi ritrovo in tanta afflictione & dispiacere pel mesto & doloroso 
caso della morte dell’ Illmo Duca di Milano, che io non so dove mi 
sia, & per tua discretione puoi giudicare quanto cimporta & publice 
& privatim, & parmi col suo M. Oratore che cost! si truova, te ne 
debba per mia parte con lui cordialmente dolere, & te conforto a 
pigliarne pensiero & non maninconia, la quale non giovaniente, & i 
pensieri alle volte sono utili, facendoli buoni. Io ancora che mi sia 
duro quanto puoi stimare, m’ ingegno pigliarne partito meglio che 
posso, & spero, che quel che al presente non puole in me la ragione, 
ancorche difficile sia, lo fara el tempo. E ci sono poi lettere da 
Milano de’ 9. & de’ 10. le quali man do, perche tu intenda come le 
cose di la passano, che alia ventura andranno meglio che non era 
1’ oppinione & credentia di molti. Io scrissi di principio a N. S., 
il quale come capo & guida non solamente della Lega, ma di tucti e 
Christiani, che facesse pensiero alia conserva di quello stato, che vi 
pub fare piu sua Beatitudine, che nessuno altro, & quando non fosse 
per altro rispecto per mantenere la pace & la quiete d’ Italia, & benchb 
io creda Sua Beatitudine esserci optimamente disposta, pure accadendo 
fame ogni opportuna opera, perche sai quel che richiede 1’ oficio & 
debito nostro verso la felicissima memoria del S. passato e della 
Excellentia di Madonna & de’ suoi incliti figliuoli. Et appresso 
leverai via sonare d’ instramenti o canti e balli, o simili altre cose 
d’ allegrezza; & della cagione, perche e venuto Malatesta, per ora 
lascia stare, & maxime in fino a Pasqua, & non ne ragionare, perche 
credo bisognera mutare proposito, & di quello che io deliberero 
saprai, & tu non ne parlare con nessuno, excepto con Giovanni & 
Malatesta. 

Per 1’ ultima tua delli VIII. eri arrivato cost! a salvamento che 
mi piace, & all’ entrata t’era stato facto grande honore, che tutto 
habbiamo a riconoscere & da Dio & dagli huomini del mondo, a chi. 
siamo troppo obligati, & vi fa pensiero di satisfare in parte al debito 
coll’ opere, & fare conto d’ essere vecchio inanzi al tempo, che cosi 
richiede el bisogno. 

Dell’ altre cose che costi seguono alia giornata intenderati, come 
per altra to detto, con Giovanni (Tornabuoni) & infrallaltre metti el 
capo a intendere lo stato di cotesta regione, e ne’ termini che ella si 
truova accio che al suo ritorno tu lo raporti chiaro ne’ termini, in che 
si truova. Nb altro al presente: Christo ti guardi. 

Erami scordato come jersera ci furono lettere da Mantova delli n. 
& avvisono come quello Sig. avea capitolato & conchiuso, & restare 
soldato del Re Ferrando, & questo per un passo e grande & utile ; 


APPENDIX, VII. 


459 


cosi habbiamo questo di lettere similmente delli u. da Genova, & 
raccontano come quelli cittadini universalmente tntti come sono stati 
alia devozione della felice memoria, del Signore passato, vogliono 
essere a Madonna & alii figliuoli; & havevano facto oeto cittadini, 
che col Governatore insieme circa tale effecto facessono quanto fusse 
di bisogno. 

Eidem. 

A questi di t’ o scripto a bastanza. Ho di poi una tua de’ 15, 
& per essa intendo, come cost! era la nuova della morte del Duca 
di Milano, el quale Dio habbi ricevuto a gratia, e delle provisioni 
facte costi del mandare a Milano & scrivere altrove, & ultimamente 
della determinazione havea fatto N. S. della conserva di quello stato, 
che molto e piaciuto uni versalmente a ciascuno. Noi qui per lo 
simile siamo in disposizione far tanto per quella Illma. Madonna & 
pe’ suoi incliti figliuoli quanto per la liberta nostra che non manco 
cimporta, & potra essere che non sara a fare altro che dimostrationi, 
perche per infino a di 17. del presente, che sono l’ultime, habbiamo 
da Milano, non v’ era innovato cosa nessuna, & tutto passava in 
buona pace & quiete, & per quanto si sente a Yinezia, secondo le 
parole e le dimostrationi, quella Signoria mostrava volere vivere in 
buona pace & quiete con Madonna & con li figliuoli, come havevan 
fatto colla felice memoria del Padre. Io sono di quelli che lo credo, 
parendomi che la ragione lo persuada. Circa questa parte non mi 
distendo, havendotene per altra mia detto allungo, & perche rimando 
le lettere chio 6 di la ma a ogni modo conosco essere grande profitto 
& utilita, che la Sanctita di N. S. dimostri volere, che si conservi 
la pace & quiete d’Italia, & a questo effecto credo concorreremo 
tucti; & perchio sono certo Sua Beatitudine ce inclinata, & sempre 
na facto dimostratione, me ne passo di leggiere, sperando che per 
la gratia di Dio & Y opere di Sua Sanctita tucto habbi a succedere 
bene. 

Resto avisato come colla Sanctita del Papa eri stato & parlato della 
faccenda di Stefano da Osimo, & come Sua Sanctita restava contenta, 
che cosi porta la ragione pel bene commune delle parti & Y universale 
della citta, & parmi N. S. lantenda a buon verso & sapientissimamente 
che non si da tagliare, ma tenere in spalla, che non puo stare, se 
non per giovare, e potrebbe essere, che la disposition del tempo 
farebbe mutare proposito pure a me; basta sentire che questo non 
sia motuproprio di Sua Beatitudine, ma daltri, & vedi sopra tucto di 
fare che resti satisfacto & contento perche quando fusse altrimenti, 
restarei mal quieto nell’ animo. 

Non so quello harete eseguito dipoi circa la dispositeria dello allume, 
la quale, come per altra ho decto, son contento che accepti in mio 
nome, & non dubito ce ne governeremo in modo, che la S. di N. S. 
se ne terra ben servita & contenta : circa di ci6 ti ristrignerai con 
Giovanni Tornabuoni, & di questa & dell’ altre cose ne determinerete 
quello che crederete sia el meglio. 

Come per altra to decto dell’ andare tuo pih in 15, mi pare da 


460 


APPENDIX, VIII. 


soprastare per insino facto la pasqua: in questo mezzo s’ intendera 
tanto innanzi clie c’ insegnera deliberare el meglio. Facesti bene a 
incitare Messer Agnolo, el quale aspectiamo qui ogni giorno. Le 
lettere di Milano, ch’ io ti mandai ne’ di passati, & quelle che ti si 
niandano al presente, rimandale indrieto. Qui si actende ognora 
sentire dell’ entrata dell’ Illmo. Galleazzomaria. El Conte d’ Urbino 
a di 18. fu alia Scarperia senza venire qui, che stimo lo facesse per 
non perder tempo : subitto doverra essere a Milano; & simile el Sig. 
Alessandro ; di quel che seguira sarai a wise to. El Sig. Gismondo era 
arrivato a Yinegia. 

Egle el vero che 1’ Arcidiacono e stato in extremo di morte, di poi 
e migliorato in modo, che non si stima habbia a morire di questo male, 
e 1’ inpensiero, che avevi facto di Pellegrino, lodo sommamente, et 
essendo accaduto el bisogno glarei dimostratro quanto desidero con- 
piacerlo & servirlo: quando tu vedi el Yescovo di Raugia, raccoman- 
dami alia Sua Signoria, & simile a Messer Lionardo Dati. Ne altro. 
Christo ti guardi. A di 22 di Marzo, 1465. 


No. VIII. pp. 48, 116. 

Lettera di Luigi Pulci a Lorenzo de' Medici. 

Tralta da testo a penna nel archivio del Palazzo Vecchio a Firenze . 

Al nome di Dio. a di 22 Apr. 1465. Caro mio Lorenzo, tu ci lasciasti 
si sconsolati nel tuo partire, ch’ io non credo ancora potere sostenere 
la penna a scriverti questa lettera. Ho bene intesto da Braccio dili- 
gentemente del tuo cammino, et stimo al presente sia in Yinegia; et 
acciochb noi facciamo buono principio al mio scrivere, dico ch’ io 
son tutto soletto, smarrito, afflitto senza te. D’ altra parte io son 
molto contento della tua dipartita, pero ch’ io la riputo avventurata 
per molte ragioni. Tu vedrai cose degne et varie, di che suole volen- 
tieri pascersi il tuo ingegno, lo quale io extimo prestantissimo di 
tutti gli altri, excepto in una sola cosa, et cetera ceterorum. Et la 
tua consolazione non pub per alcuno modo essere senza mio gaudio. 
Et ancora ho cliiamata piu volte felicissima questa tua partenza; ac- 
cioche tu non abbi commesso peccato, ad ajutare nella sua petizione 
nuovamente affermata, quello, con che 1’ amico di Yaldarno del corno, 
voleva entrare nell’ orto del Borromeo per le mura; overo con che 
egli pota le pergole, quando non v’ agiugne dappie col suo penna- 
tuzzo. Non domandare s’ ella ci e alzata tre braccia piu che quest’ 
anno passato la neve; et io n’ho tanta havuta pel capo, e per gli 
occhi, che non sa se non a fare di me, come facemo in Mugello di 
pesci al salceto poi che furono morti. Et al tutto la mia buona dili- 
genzia, la mia povera fatica in ricercare per ogni parte vocaboli 
accomodati al bisogno, per ritrovare T origine vero, andando personal- 



APPENDIX, VIII. 


461 


mente, h perduta, e cassa, Mai piu non vo cantar cowl io solea,” &c. 
Se tu ci fussi io farei mazze di sonetti come di ciriege in questo 
calendo di maggio. Io direi cose eh’ el sole et la luna si fermareb- 
bono, come a Josue, per udirle. Tuttavia n’ o tra denti qualcuno per 
uscir fuori; poi dico il mio Lorenzo non ci e, nel quale era veramente 
ogni mio refugio, et ogni speranza. Questo solo mi ripreme: ma 
sia felice e presto il tuo tornare, ch’ io faro pure un tratto ridere 
il popolo tutto; poi me n’ andro in sul carre Delio; et la mia patria 
sara dove lo stajo della farina valli pochi soldi, e dove s’infarinino 
i pesci, e funghi secchi, et le zucche, et non gl’ huomini, &c. 
Vale— 


Ex. MS. in Pal. vet. Florentine adservato. 

Nobilissimo atque optimo adolescenti Laurentio Medici Petri Filio 
tanquam fratri suavissimo—Peregrinus Allius S. D. 

Ne fort& mireris hominem tibi deditissimum, in tuo a patria discessu, 
amicorum ilia communia tibi minime prsestitisse, reddam, si potero, 
rationem per litteras, quas ne multum differam, facit incredibile de- 
siderium tui, pietasque in te nostra singularis. Ut enim ii quibus 
forte vulnera resecantur vultus avertunt, neque Medici manus aspicere 
patiuntur, sic ego cum a me dimidium mei separatur, aequiore animo 
absens tui quam praesens extitissem. Accessit et alia cura quam nos . 
dicendam in aliud tempus differemus ; sed profecto hoc vero affirmare 
possum, inter tot calamitates quibus me fortuna vehementer exercuit, 
nihil mihi hac nostra disjunctione, his annis accidisse molestius. 
Neque tamen ego is sum ut aliquis forte putaret malignus alienae 
voluntatis interpres, qui ut mel muscae, cadavera corvi sequuntur, sic 
foenerator amicitias proposita metiar utilitate; sed tanta certe ob sin¬ 
gulars virtutes tuas et mores iugenuos exarsit in nobis benevolentiae 
magnitudo, ut sine te ab ipsa pene humanitate destituti esse videamur. 

Et jam tarn brevi paucorum dierum intervallo, tarn diu videmur 
suavissima consuetudine tua caruisse, ut quin, aliquid ad te demus 
litterarum quibus tecum quasi coram colloquamur, facere nullo modo 
possimus. Qui enim aliter desiderium nostrum fallamus, atque or- 
bitatem nostram consolemur? Atque in hoc illud nobis deesse sen- 
timus, illud requirimus, illud omnibus votis expetimus, jocundissimas 
sermonum tuorum per litteras vices, quae quidem si cogitationibus 
nostris accesserint, multum erit profecto de nostro desiderio dimi- 
nutum. Videbimur enim nobis et tecum esse, et vivas, ut ait Maro, 
audire et reddere voces. Quam quidem rem facere tu profecto debes ; 
sive ut amicitiae satisfacias, sive ut hac exercitatione aliquam dicendi 
facultatem consequaris; est enim, ut ait Cicero, optimus ac praestan- 
tissimus dicendi effector ac magister stilus: quern praecipue adoles- 
centes intermittere nullo pacto debent. Frequens namque a teneris 
annis faciendum periculum, atque altius agendae radices eorum stu- 
diorum ex quibus postea in provectiore aetate maximam gratiam 
atque uberrimos fructus expectamus. Et quarum, ut inquit idem 
Cicero, laudum gloriam adamamus, quibus artibus eae laudes compa- 


462 


APPENDIX, IX. 


rentur, in iis est potissimum certe ab adolescentia laborandum. Usus 
prseterea et experientia omnibus in rebus dominatur, sine quibus pro- 
fecto nedum res tam ardua, tam prseclara, sed ne minimse quidem et 
vilissimee artium perdiscuntur. Quod si ulla res est quae assidui 
usus ac sedulitatis indiget, ea certe stilus est: qui ut frequenti exer- 
citatione alitur, ita desuetudine obsolescit, atque intercidit. Neque 
solum in iis qui nondum jecerunt dicendi fundamenta, sed et in iis 
qui multum in ea re perfecerunt, si intermittatur, scribendi languescit 
industria. Quare sive ob exercitationis utilitatem, sive ut amico tibi 
deditissimo rem gratam facias, scribe ad nos, quam ssepissime, neve 
nos suavissima verborum tuorum vicissitudine fraudes. Satis enim 
erit superque satis ejus aspectu carere, qui uno tantum obtutu (neque 
hoc te latet) ex maxima animi perturbatione ad summam tranquilli- 
tatem revocare potestatem habet. Yale et nos ama, nosque Gentili 
nostro commendato. Ex Florentia 4. Kalendas Novembris, 1463. 


No. IX. p. 52. 

Ex Monum. Ang. Fabronii. 

Rex Sicilies Lourentio. 

Magnifice vir amice noster carissime. Amavamove prima si per 
le virtute vostre, si per li meriti paterni & aviti, ma nuovamente inteso 
con quanta prudentia virilita & animo vi siate portato in la reforma- 
tione del novo reggimento, & quanta demonstratione habiate data de 
vui liberamente, havete tanto adiuncto all’ amore ve portavamo, che 
e stata una moltiplicatione infinita. Congratulomene dunque al Mag- 
nifico Piero, che abbia un si digno figliolo ; congratulomene etiam al 
populo Fiorentino, che habia si notabile difensore de la sua liberty : 
& non mino ad nui medisimi, che abbiamo tale amico, in lo quale la 
virtute con gli anni insieme piglia ogne di manifestissimo augmento. 
Apparteneria forse ad nui excitarve ad le opere laudabili, ma la natura 
vostra generosa et prona ad le cose digne non ha bisogno de excitatore. 
Ultra di questo la memoria del vostro nobilissimo avo et lo exemplo 
del patre, che havete avanti locchi, hanno in se tanta efficacia, che 
non rechedino exortatione ne conforto alcuno. Pur lamore, che ve 
portamo ne stringe a pregarve vogliate de continuo producere tali 
fructi, quali havete comenzato ad dare delle vostre digne opere con 
tanta laude de vui propri, gloria del vostro Magnifico Patre, & ex¬ 
pectation de la vostra citta, & finalmente con laudabilissimo testi- 
monio de Italia tutta, in notizia della quale e andata la virtu vostra. 
Seguitate dunque come havete comenzato, dando ogne di de’ vui ali 
cittadini, & amici vostri maior speranza dela virtu propria, & de haver 
ad esser digno successore della notabilissima casa vostra. Ad la qual 
cosa cosi como non ve mancano anche abundantemente, ve suppliscono 
tutte facilitate ad cio necessarie, & de la cassa & de la cittate, cosi 



APPENDIX, X. 


463 


liaverete etiam da lontano amici, che ve daranno vera & efFectuosa 
evidentia de vera & perfecta amicitia, inter li quali haverete nui per 
precipui. 

Datum in Castro novo Neapolis XXVIII. Sept. 1466. 

Rex Ferdinandus. 


No. X. p. 53. 

Lettera di Angelo Acciajoli a Pietro Medici. 

Siena 17 Settembre , 1466. 

Spectabilis virfrater honorande. Io mi rido di quel ch’ io veggio. 
Dio t’ ha apparecchiato potermi cancellare tucte le ragioni che io ho 
teco, & non lo sai fare, e mi fu tolta la patria & lo stato per tuo padre; 
tu se’ in termine che me lo puoi rendere : io Y ajutai che non li 
fusse tolta la roba, ora e’ tolgono a me & grani & certe miserie di 
masserizie ; tu me le puoi salvare ; non dormire piu in dimostrare 
che tu non vuoi essere ingrato ; io non dico questo per la roba, bench’ 
io n’ abbi bisogno, quanto io lo dico per rispetto tuo: raccoman- 
domi a te. 

Risposta di Pietro Medici ec. 

Firenze 22 Settembre , 1466. 

Magnifice eques tanquam pater honorande. II vostro ridere ha 
fatto che io non pianga, che pure avevo dispiacere di questa vostra 
fortuna. Ma voi usate el vostro consueto senno, che in simili casi e 
necessario. La vostra colpa, come per altra mia ve ho detto e mani- 
festa & tale, che la mia o altra intercessione non gioverebbe. Io di 
mia natura volentieri dimentico & a voi & a ciascun altro, che contro 
di me ha havuto animo inimico & hostile. Io ho dimesso ogni in- 
giuria; la Repubblica non puo e non debbe per lo exemplo cosi de 
leggiere perdonare, come voi sapete meglio di me, che solete di 
queste cose vedere assai, & in pubblico & in privato predicarle. 
Scrivete che fusti cacciato per mio padre, & per salvargli la roba; 
ricordate gli obblighi. Non niego essere stato sempre grande amicitia 
la vostra con mio padre, & con noi altri, la quale secondo ragione 
mi vi dovea fare figliuolo, come io sempre mi vi sono reputato. Fusti 
cacciato con mio padre, fusti eziandio richiamato con lui, come 
piacque alia Repubblica, che di noi ha piena & libera potentia, ne 
credo 1’ amicitia nostra con voi vi sia stata danno o vergogna alcuna, 
come chiaro si dimostra, & forse che la ragione oblighi & benefizj 
fra noi batte, e resta pih del pari, che non vi pare secondo el vostro 
scrivere, benche io certamente sempre mi vi riputai obligato; ma 
voi me avete, se bene examinate la conscientia vostra, assai disobligo; 
nientedimeno voglio restarvi obligato in quanto appartiene a me privata- 
mente, che la ingiuria publica non posso, n& voglio nb debbo perdonare, 
ed in privato dimenticare el tutto, & dimettere ogni ingiuria, & restare 
quel figliuolo che debbo essere in verso di voi tal padre. 



464 


APPENDIX, XI. 


No. XI. pp. 54, 61, 75, 83, 86, 95. 

Ricordi del Magnifico Lorenzo di Piero di Cosimo dd Medici . 

Cavati da due fogli scritti di sua propria mano. 

ESTRATTI DA UN CODICE DELLA PUBLICA LIBERIA MAGLIABECHIANA. 

E stampati nel nuovo Lunario della Toscana delV anno 1775. 

Narrazione breve del corso di mia vita e d’ alcune altre cose 
d’ importanza degne di memoria per lume e informazione di chi 
succedera massimamante de’ figli nostri cominciata questo di 15. 
Marzo, 14/2. 

Trovo per libri di Piero nostro padre, che io nacqui a di primo di 
gennaio 1448, ed ebbe detto nostro padre di Maria Lucrezia di Fran¬ 
cesco Tornabuoni nostra madre sette figli, quattro, maschi, e tre 
femmine, dei quali restiamo al presente quattro due maschi e due 
femmine, cioe Giuliano mio fratello d’ eta d’ anni . . . ed io d’ anni 
24. e la Bianca donna di Guglielmo de’ Pazzi, e la Nannina donna di 
Bernardo Rucellaj. 

Giovanni di Averardo, ovvero di Bicci dei Medici nostro bisavolo 
trovo che mori a di 20. Febbraio, 1428. a ore 4. di notte senza voler 
far testamento, lascio il valsente di Fiorini 178. mila 221. di sug- 
gello come appare per un ricordo di mano di Cosimo nostro avolo 
a un suo libro segreto di cuoio rosso a c. 7. visse detto Giovanni 
anni 68. 

Rimase di lui due figli cioe Cosimo nostro avolo allora d’ eta d’ anni 
40. e Lorenzo suo fratello d’ eta d’ anni 30. 

Di Lorenzo nacque Pier Francesco a di . . . nel 1430. che al pre¬ 
sente vive. 

Di Cosimo nacque Piero nostro Padre a di . . . e Giovanni nostro 
zio a di . . . 

A di . . . di Settembre, 1433. fu sostenuto in Palazzo Cosimo nostro 
avolo con pericolo di pena e supplicio capitale. 

E a di 9. di Settembre confinato e relegato a Padova lui, e Lorenzo 
suo fratello e a di n. confermato per la Balia del 1433. 

E a di 16. di Dicembre, 1433. allargato di potere stare in tutte le 
terre de’ Veneziani, non piu presso a Firenze che fusse Padova. 

A di 29. di Settembre, 1434. per il consiglio della Balia fu revocato 
nella Patria con grandissimo contento di tutta la Citta, e quasi di 
tutta Italia, dove poi visse insino all’ ultimo de’ suoi giorni Principale 
nel governo della nostra Repubblica. 

Lozenzo de’ Medici fratello di Cosimo nostro avolo passo da questa 
vita a di 20. di Settembre, 1440. d’ eta di anni 46. in circa a Careggi 
a ore 4. di notte senza voler fare testamento, resto suo unico Erecle 
Pier Francesco, suo figlio e trovossi alia sua morte il valsente di 
fiorini 235. mila 137. di suggello come appare a detto libro segreto 
di Cosimo a c. 13. del qual valsente Cosimo sopradetto tenne a utile 
a benefizio, di detto Pier Francesco figlio del detto Lorenzo, come 


APPENDIX, XI. 


465 


e di Piero, e Giovanni suoi figli insino che fu d’ eta con veniente, come 
appare tutto particolarmente per i libri di detto Cosimo, dove e tenuto 
particolarmente conto di tutto. 

A di . . . di Dicembre, 1451. sendo detto Pier Francesco in eta si 
divise da noi per lodo dato M. Marcello degli Strozzi, e Alamanno 
Salviati, M. Carlo Marsuppini, Bernardo de’ Medici, Amerigo Caval¬ 
canti, e Giovanni Serristori, per il qual lodo gli fu consegnato la meta 
di tutti e nostri beni grassamente dandoli il vantaggio, ed i migliori 
capi e di tutto fu rogato Ser Antonio Pugi Notaro. 

E nel medesimo tempo lo ritiro compagno per il terzo in tutti 
e nostri trafiichi, dove ba avanzato piu di noi, per aver avuto manco 
spese. 

Giovanno nostro zio sopradetto mori a di primo di Novembre, 1463. 
nella nostra casa di Firenze senza fare testamento, perche non aveva 
figli ed era in potesta paterna, non di meno fu massa ad esecuzione 
interamente la sua ultima volonta, ebbe di Maria Ginevra degl’ Ales- 
sandri un figliuolo chiamato Cosimo che mori di Novembre, 1461, 
d’eta di anni 9. in circa. 

Cosimo nostro avolo uomo sapientissimo mori a Careggi a di primo 
di Agosto, 1464. d’eta d’ anni 76. in circa molto lacerato dalla vec- 
chiezza, e dalla gotta, con grandissimo dolore, non solamente di noi, 
e di tutta la Citta, ma generalmente di tutta Italia perche fu uomo 
famosissimo ed ornato di molte singolari virtu, mori in grandissimo 
stato quanto Cittadino Fiorentino, di cui sia memoria, fu seppellito 
in San Lorenzo, non voile far testamento ne voile pompa funebre, 
nondimeno tutti i Signori d’ Italia mandarono ad onorarlo e a con- 
dolersi della sua morte, e infra gli altri la Maesta del Re Luigi di 
Francia commisse fusse onorato della sua bandiera, che per rispetto 
di quanto aveva ordinato, di non voler pompa, non voile Piero nostro 
padre che si facesse. 

Per decreto pubblico fu intitolato Pater Patriae, di che abbiamo in 
casa il privilegio o lettera patente. 

Dopo la cui morte seguirono molte sedizioni nella Citta specialmente 
fu perseguitato per invidia nostro padre, e noi non senza gran peri- 
colo, e degli amici, e dello Stato, e facolta nostre. Da che nacque 
il Parlamento e novita del 1466. che furono relegati M. Agnolo 
Acciaiuoli, M. Dietisalvi, e Niccolo Soderini con altri, e riformossi lo 
Stato. 

L’ anno 1465. per la familiarita tenuta nostro avolo, e nostro 
padre con la casa di Francia, la Maesta del Re Luigi insigni e orno 
1’ Arme nostra di tre gigli d’ oro nel campo azzurro, che portiamo 
al presente, di che abbiamo lettere patenti col suggello Reale pen¬ 
dente, che fu approvato, e confermato in Palazzo per 8. fave de’ 
Priori. 

L’ anno 1467. di luglio ci venne il Duca Galeazzo di Milano ch’ 
era in campo contro Bartolommeo da Bergamo in Romagna che 
vessava lo Stato nostro, e alloggio in casa nostra, che cosi voile, 
benchb dalla Signoria gli fusse stato apparecchiato in Santa Maria 
Novella. 


30 


4GG 


APPENDIX, XI. 


II medesimo anno 1467. circa il Febbraio, e Marzo, si compro 
Serezzana, e Serezzanello, e Castel Nuovo da M. Lodovico, e M. Tom- 
masino da Campo-Fregosi per opera di Piero nostro padre, non 
ostante fussino nella guerre folta, e fecesi il pagamento a Siena per 
Francesco Sassetti nostro Ministro, e compagno in quel tempo degli 
Ufiziali del Monte. 

10 Lorenzo tolsi Donna Clarice figliuola del Signore Iacopo Orsino, 
ovvero mi fu data, di Dicembre, 1468. e feci le nozze in casa nostra 
a di 4 di Giugno 1469 ; trovomi di lei insino a oggi due figliuoli 
una femmina chiamata Lucrezia d’ eta d’ anni . . . e un mascbio 
chiamato Piero di . . . mesi, e lei gravida, Iddio ce li presti lun- 
pamente, e la guardi lungamente da ogni pericolo, sconciossi d’ altri 
due figli maschi di mesi cinque in circa, e vissero infino al bat- 
tesimo. 

Di luglio 1469. a richiesta dell’ Illustrissimo Duca Galeazzo di 
Milano andai a Milano e gli tenni a battesimo il suo primogenito, 
cliiamato Giovanni Galeazzo a nome di Piero nostro padre, dovi fui 
molto onorato, e piii ch’ alcun’ altro che vi fusse per simil cosa, 
benche ve ne fussi de’ piu degni assai di me, e per fare il debito nostro 
donammo alia Ducliessa una collano d’ oro con un grosso Diamante 
che costo circa ducati tre mila. Donde & seguito ch’ il prefato Signore 
ha voluto che battezzi tutti gli altri suoi figli. 

Per eseguire e far’ come gli altri giostrai in sulla piazza di Santa 
Croce con grande spesa, e gran sunto, nella quale trovo si spese circa 
fiorini 10. mila di suggello; e benche d’ anni, e di colpi non fussi 
molto strenue, mi fu giudicato il primo onore cioe un elmetto fornito 
d’ ariento, con un marte per cimiero. 

Piero nostro padre passo da questa vita alii 2 di Dicembre, 1469. 
d’ etk di anni, . . . molto afflitto dalle gotte, non voile far testamento, 
ma fecesi 1’ inventario, e trovammoci allora il valsente di fiorini 
dugento trentasette mila novecento ottanta nove, come appare a un 
libro verde grande di mia mano in carta di capretto a c. 31. Fu 
sepellito in S. Lorenzo, e di continuo si fa la sua sepoltura, e di Gio. 
suo fratello, pih degna che sappiamo per mettervi le loro ossa. Iddio 
abbia avuto misericordia della anime. Fu molto pianto da tutta la 
Citta, perchb era uomo intero, e di perfettissima bonta, e dai Signori 
d’ Italia massimamente i principali fummo per lettere, e imbasciate, 
e condoglienze della sua morte, e cosi offerito lo Stato loro per la 
nostra difesa. 

11 secondo di dopo la sua morte quantunque io Lorenzo fussi molto 
giovane, ciob di anni 21. vennono a noi a casa i Principali della Citta, 
e dello Stato, a dolersi del caso, e confortarmi, che pigliassi la cura 
della Citta, e dello Stato, come avevano fatto 1’ Avolo, e il padre mio, 
le quali cose per esser contro alia mia eta, di gran carico, e pericolo, 
mal volentieri accettai, e solo per conservazione degli amici e sostanze 
nostre, perche a Firenze si puo mal vivere senza lo Stato, delle quali 
infino a qui siamo riusciti con onore, e grazia, reputando tutto, non da 
prudenza, ma per grazia di Dio, e per i buoni portamenti de’ miei 
passati. 


APPENDIX, XII. 


467 

Gran somma di denari trovo abbiamo spesi dal]' anno 1434. in 
qua, come appare per un quadernuccio in quarto da detto anno 1434 
fino a tutto 1471. si vede somma incredibile, perche ascende a 
fjorim 663755, tra muraglie limosine, e gravezze senza V altre spese, 
di che non voglio dolermi, perche quantunque molti giudicassero 
averne una parte in borsa, io giudico essere gran lume alio Stato nostro 
e pajommi ben collocati, e ne sono molto ben contento. 

Di Settembre, 1471, fui eletto Imbasciatore a Roma perl’ incoro- 
nazione di Papa Sisto IV. dove fui molto onorato, e di quindi portai 
le due tes*e di marmo antiche dell’ Immagine di Augusto, e di Agrippa, 
le quali mi dono detto Papa, e pid portai la scodella nostra di Calci- 
donio intagliata con molti altri cammei, e medaglie, che si comprarono 
allora fra le altre il Calcidonio. 


No. XII. p. 82. 

Inventiva cT una impositione di nuova gravezza , per Lodovico 
Gheti. 

Tratta da testo a penna del Secol. XV. 

r 

Accio che e sottoposti del magnifico commune di Firenze, et alcuni 
altri malivoli d’ essa community, et con doglenza e ramarichi non 
usino andare dicendo ne infamando che essi, con infinita gravezza, e 
stensioni incomportabili, sieno rubati et diserti da essa communita, in 
avere, et in persona; et con queste cose incitando e capitani et e 
tyranni d’ Italia, alchuna volta muoversi et fare imprese di guerra 
contro alia nostra citta di Firenze, sperando di fare ribellioni negli 
agravati popoli, (et advengha dio che questa loro speranza sempre 
insino al di doggi sia loro fallata, non resta percio che la difeza sia 
suta sanza danni et pericoli et grande spesa della detta citta e del suo 
paese, et veduto che le terre d’ Italia non sono atte a venire meno, 
ma di continuare, e crescere, et che la prefata nostra citta sia posta 
in sito che per salute della nostra liberta, quasi a tutte le predette 
guerre ci bisogni porre mano, et participare et riparare; et che queste 
cose non si possino fare sanza continova spesa, la quale come detto 
e di sopra, per molti si dice con grande doglenza non potersi sop- 
portare, & che convenghono partirsi, le quali cose seguitando saria 
con grande danno, et biasimo, et pericolo della predetta nostra 
citt&- 

Adunque e da vedere, poiche la spesa b necessaria per salute della 
liberta e stato di Firenze, se si puo porre questa gravezza in forma et 
in modo si ugualmente, che voluntaria da tutti possa essere supportata, 
sanza biasimo, o lamento d’ alchuna persona. 

E perche lo scriptore, avendo sopra di cio facta alcuna imaginatione, 




408 APPENDIX, XII. 

dilibera dime il suo pensiero; sempre siserbato migliore e piii giusti- 
ficato modo. 

Et dicho cosi, acciochti ciaschuno participi generalmente alia detta 
gravezza, laquale conviene essere tanta che supplischa al bisogno del 
commune, che ella si pongha a perdere. Lo decimo, per stima, 
sopra tutti i fructi die frutta il terreno sottoposto al commune di 
Firenze, cioe sopra grano, et biade grosse, et minute, legume d’ ogni 
ragione, lo decimo del vino, et sopra lo frutto del bestiame grosso, et 
minuto, dogni generatione, lo decimo dell olio, et lino, canape, zaffo- 
rano, guadi, robbia, di legne da fuoco, di fitti lavorj, et lo decimo di 
strame, di paschi d’ erbe, et di fitti d’ orti, et sopra la industria de 
detti che lavorano 1* orta. 

Ancora lo decimo de’ fitti di mulina, o pigioni di case, di botteghe, et 
d’ alberghi, et sopra ogni altra cosa, che pagasse fitti e pigioni. 

Ancora lo decimo sopra la rendita del monte. 

Ancora lo decimo sopra e salari, e soldi degli ufficiali, dentro alia 
Citta, e di fuori, et di loro giudici, et cavallieri, et sopra la pensioni de 
Castellani, tanto quegli che vanno di fuori della jurisdizione del com¬ 
mune di Firenze, quanto a quegli della Citta et distretto; eccettuati 
gl’ ufficj forestieri quali non sieno tenuti a decimo, 

Ancora porre lo decimo sopra alia industria et guadagno delle sette 
maggiori arti, tanto di fuori della Citta et suggetti del commune, quanto 
dentro, et ancora sopra e salarj de’ loro fattori grossi che avessono da 
FI. 30 in su di salario, exceptuati quelli che lavorano di mano. 

Similemente sopra lo decimo della industria et guadagno sopra queste 
delle quattordici minori arti, cosi di fuori come di dentro, et e loro fat- 
tori e lavoranti, sieno de loro prezzi e salarj franchi, concio sia cosa che 
lavorino di mano, e quasi sono tutte povcre persone. 

Et nota, che a tutti quanti questi decimi, verrieno a essere tenuti 
generalemente, ogni persona, tanto gli ecclesiastici, come e laici, et 
simile gl’ assenti, e forestieri abitanti, conciosiacosache ciascuno dessi 
possiede col favore del commune, et beneficio della pace, et della gius- 
tizia, et cosi debbono debitamente participare agl’ affanni, et se pure 
alchuni clerici, o terre exenti si ricusassi, la via et el modo e per le 
ragioni sopra dette a fargli acceptare voluntariamente. 

Insino a qui, s’ & detto di sopra, sopra a che sarebbe da mettere la 
impositione del decimo ; resta ora a dichiarare quanto gittasse. 

Et intorno a questo che a me pare, et per alcuni intendenti si dicie, 
che la Citta di Firenze, col suo territorio, facci huomeni ottanta mila di 
guardia; che se cosi fusse, che si presume sia, seguiterebbe secondo 
naturale ragione, che ogni huomo di guardia, computata la sua per¬ 
sona, facessi Y uno per 1’ altro cinque boche, tra femmine, e fanciulli, 
et vecchj; che verrebbono a moltiplicare boche a quattro cento 
migliaja. 

Arebbesi ora a vedere queste boche quanto pane, vino, olio, carne, 
vogliono 1* anno ; e per questa via si trovera quasi tutta la quantita de 
fructi, e quali, se non e qualche sterminata carestia, tutto eschono del 
territorio di Firenze, sicche appresso verro a dichiarare quanto vogliono 
le sopradette boche. 


APPENDIX, XII. 


Dicho adunque che quattro cento milliaja di boche, aiutante la pichola colla 
grande, et el cittadino col contadino lavoratore, vuole Staja XIIII. per 
bocha 1’ anno, che montera lo grano, dugento trenta due milliaja di 
moggia, lo quale stimo a Fior . . . el moggio monta Fior. 

Et pur stimo che le dette boche, ristorando F una F altra anchora del vino, 
avanza oltre all' anno, quantunque a molti ne manchi, tutto arbitro che 
voglieno, Cogna CCC. m. lo quale stimo quello d’ allungie con quello d’ 
appresso, e buoni co’ mezzani et manuali, che Y uno per Y altro vagli Fio- 
rini tre e mezzo cioe FI. 3^ che monta a una miglione di Fiorini—el 

decimo FI.. 

Et stimo che voglino sopra dette boche, tra per ardere e per mangiare, olio 
orcia cento migliaja, a fior Y orcio, che monta lo decimo, fior. . 

E perche della carne non posso fare appunto per molti rispetti, nel conto 
piglo questo ordine, che io stimo che nel territorio di Firenze sia pechore, 
fra mezzane, e basse, et grosse, et montanine, circa ad una miglione, alle 
quali Funa per F altra metto per decimo 2i fl. fra F agnello, lana, et caccio; 
et nota che tanto metto alle minute, et basse, quanto alle grosse, consi- 
derato che le grosse anno piu spesa per F andata di maremma et che 

monti questo decimo fior. 

Et stimo che nello detto territorio, tra allevare a mano, et in selva, s’ alievi 
porci quaranti migliaja a quali si debba mettere, cioe alii allevati a mano, 
et in casa, stimo sieno la meta grossi uno per porche, et agli della selva, 
considerato sta due anni a allevarsi, pure uno grosso per anno; montino 

a e decimi in tutto, ridotti in somma fior. 

A quegh che allevano e porci temporili, per rivendere, non gli metto per 
carne, ma per industria allerte inanzi. 

Ancora stimo, che fra vache, bufoli, et cavalle sia che figlino nel territorio 
di Firenze, capi ventimila, e piu; alle quali per lo decimo del fructo, metto 

uno quarto di fior. per capo, che monta fior.. 

Ancora stimo che oltre alle sopradette boche sia nella citta, contado, et 
distretto di Firenze tra cortegiani, soldati a cavallo, et a pie, et marinai, 
et viandanti, et mendicanti, et altri forestieri, circa a boche XX m. le 
quali voglono molto piu roba che F ordinarie boche; stimo voglono F uno 
per l’altro fior. XII. per uno, tra pane, vino, et carne, et oglio, che monti 

fior. 240,000 lo decimo sie fior. 

Ancora fo, oltre al nostro bisogno, fornite tutte le sopradette boche, per uno 
anno che e detto, che avanzi sopra la spesa, grano per quattro mesi, che 
sarebbe alia ragione detta moggi ottanta mila di grano, lo decimo sarebbe 
otto mila chea fior. per moggio sono fior. . . . • • 

Ancora stimo che in Firenze, e nel paese, fra cortigiani, et soldati, et di cit- 
tadini, muli, cavagli, somieri da soma, circa a venti quattro migliaja, cioe 
che mangino biada, le quali stimo Funa per F altra mangino £ di stajo el 
di, che monta F anno circa a cinquanta migliaja di moggia di biada grossa, 
che lo decimo sarebbe moggia 5000 a fiorini due et mezzo F uno anno per 

F altro el moggio, monta fior. 

Ancora lo decimo del miglo, et saggina, et panicho, che stimo montera 

meglo che fior.. 

Ancora lo decimo di fave, ceci, e d’ altri lagumi fructi meglio che fior. 
Ancora lo decimo del Uno, canape, guadi, robbia zafferano, e fitti d’ orti, 

fior. 

Ancora lo decimo di legname da edificj et d’ altri lavori, e di quello da ar¬ 
dere, fior.. • • • •. 

Ancora lo decimo di strame, pagha, fieno, e paschi di montagnc, e di ma¬ 
rina, fior.. 

Ancora lo decimo delle selve che si vendono, et ghiande, e lo decimo delle 

castagne, fior. 

Ancora stimo, che oltre al olio che e stimato adrieto, che bisogna per nostro 
uso, tragha et consumi in arte di lana, che si fa nella citta, e distretto, 
oltre accio, quello che avanza oltre al nostro uso, in tutto orcia sexanta 


469 

111,815 

100,000 

15,000 


25,000 

2,509 

5000 

24,000 

44,000 

12,500 

3000 

2000 

3000 

3000 

5000 

1000 










470 


APPENDIX, XII. 


migliaja che monte a fior. 1£ l’orcio fior. novanta migliaja—lo decimo, 

fior. 9000 

Ancora stimo secondo lo macinato che voglono le boche in fitti de’ Mulini 
collo decimo che guadagna il mugnaio, frutti a decimo tra el padrone et 
el mugnaio predetto, fior. cinquanta mila. ... . . 5000 

Ancora credo e tengho, che fructi la pigione delle case et di botteghe, et d’ 

alberghi di Firenze, et del suo territorio, e distretto, lo decimo fior. . 5000 

Ancora credo che frutti lo decimo de’ salarj de capitani, vicarj, et podesta, 
e de loro giudici et cavalierj, e castellani, P anno che sono uficj etiandio 

lo salario de gli ufici di dentro fior. 5000 

Ancora lo decimo della rendita del monte, chosi come detto abbiamo di in- 

teressi, cioe fior, dugento migliaja—fior. ... . . 20,000 

Ancora lo decimo della industria delle sette maggiori arti, e lo decimo de 

salarj de fattori loro—fior. . 50,000 

Ancora la industria delle quattordici minori arti, lo decimo fior. venticinque 

migliaja... 25,000 

Somma in tutto, fior. . . . 475,815 

Nota che io stimo per molti membri che anno le supradette arti, et 
maxime le minori, che si stendono nello distretto di fuori in grande 
numero, et sia molto maggiore quantita, che io non disegno di sopra. 

Ora qui e una difficult^. contraria a questo disegno, cioe che nel 
sopradetto disegno se a d’ inchiudere lo decimo della meta di fructi a 
lavaratori che lavorano a mezzo, e quali essendo gravati di soldi tre di 
stimo per testa, non potrebbono sopportare ancora lo decimo. 

A questo si dice non volendo guastare el numero delle taxxe, in che 
entrano el sopradette soldi tre per testa, et cogli detti lavaratorj. Et 
nota che se del salario non fusse excettuato, persona, et da altri non 
fussino e riagravati piii che non potessono computare che si paglasse 
della sopradetta somma del decimo, tanto che si pagassi pegli detti 
contadini, la lora taxa, salvo et riservato a quegli che anno et lavorano, 
lo terreno proprio, sicche sbattuta la quantita che tocha a detti lavara¬ 
torj, et ancora a quello bischonto di non essere si grassa 1’ entrata del 
decimo come si disegna, che la detta somma resterebbe in su quattro 
cento migliaja netti di fiorni 400,000. 

Et accio che questo decimo pih pienamente gittasse le sopradetti 
quantita di fiorini, credo che sarebbe buono providemento, di fare per 
le genti che a ciascuno persona habitante a Pisa o nel paese, fusse lecito 
di lavorare in ciascuno terreno sodo di quello di Pisa, sauza alchuna 
contraditione di padroni o d’ altri, pagando egli a padroni de terreni P 
usato convenevole araticho, et lavorando egli con quattro bestie, o bovine, 
o buffoline, o cavalline, et da indi in su potessi trarre per mare o per 
terra, la meta de grani o biade ricoglessi, pagando V usata tracta, con 
questo inteso, che el grano non passasse a Firenze, soldi venti lo stajo, 
et passando non si posse trarre. 

Seguiteranne che gli abitanti forestieri crosceranno a Pisa et nel con- 
tado: et miglioreranno le gabelle per la tracta, et entreranno danarj 
assai contanti di forestieri in paese, pero che gnuna cosa che empia di 
danari piu maneschiuno paese quanto fa chi a avendere grano. Ancora 
lie seguitera che sempre Pisa sara fornita per quello: restera che sara 
grande quantita di grano. 





APPENDIX, XIII. 


471 


Ancora e da notare, che chi paghasse a ragione di fior. 5f lo moggio 
del grano, per la sopradetta impositione del decimo, sara per questo 
necessario per la via della tratta, mantenere el grano in su soldi xx lo 
stajo, perche se valessi sol x per pagare lo detto decimo gli converrebbe 
vendere 2 stajo di grano per fare soldi xx, et a questo modo arebbe a 
pagare due decimi et cosi dell’ olio et del vino. Non credo si potessi 
fare salvo, se non per una via dob in tenerlo in su fior. of; questo 
tengho in me per ora. 

Avete veduto come il mio disegno delle impositione del decimo so- 
prastato gitterebbe fior. 400,000 o pib, e quali si vorebbono per pih 
babilita pagare in tre termine, e questo b cbe quella parte che tocbassi 
a lavoratori d’ altrui, gP osti loro ne fussono tenuti, accio che im su la 
ricolta la recbassono al loco, sicche questa sustanza rimanessi a P oste 
e pagassi P oste se dette lavoratore non pagasse al tempo. 

De dette fiorini cccc. m. a chiarire per sperienza ciascuna persona 
che non cl. m. di fiorini P anno, si puo mantenere et contentere ca- 
vagli 4000, fanti 1000 1 , sicbe abbi ad avvanzare della quantita fior. 
ccl. m. e cosi con quegli si puo sdebitare el debito del monte, e poi 
resterebbono le rendite et el comune libero, colie quali si potra fare 
e mantenere piil gente bisognando. Et non sara di bisogno ne pres¬ 
tanza, ne balzello. Et sarebbesi fuori d’ una grande pistolenza e ma- 
lattia. Et seguiterebbe che si ritonerebbe assai cittadini. Et molti 
danari uscirebbono fuori per ogni via. L’ arti, el popolo, el paese, 
multiphcherebbe, e crescerebbe la riputatione, e non si direbbe pe’ 
nostri vicini che fussimo falliti et in piegha. E e tiranni non fa- 
rebbono pensiero affare si leggiermente guerra, colie loro false 
speranze. 


No. XIII. p. 91. 

Ex Oper. Ang. Politiani. Ed. Aldi . 1498. 

Ad Lauren. Medicem. 

Cum referam attonito Medices tibi carmina plectro, 
Ingeniumque tibi serviat omne meum. 

Quod tegor attrita ridet plebecula veste, 

Tegmina quod pedibus sunt recutita meis; 

Quod digitos caligae disrupto carcere nudos 
Permittunt cselo liberiore frui; 

Intima bombycum vacua est quod stamine vestis, 
Sectaque de csesa vincule fallit ove ; 

Ridet, et ignavum sic me putat esse poetam, 

Nec placuisse animo carmina nostra tuo. 

1 Pin tosto, Cavagli 1000. Fanti 4000. 



472 


APPENDIX, XIV. 


Tu contra effusas toto sic pectore laudes 
Ingeris, ut libris sit data palma meis; 

Hoc tibi si credi cupis, et cohibere popellum, 
Laurenti, vestes jam mihi mitte tuas. 

Ad eundern, gratiarum actio. 

Dum cupio ingentes numero tibi solvere grates, 
Laurenti, setatis gloria prima tuse, 

Excita jamdudum longo mihi murmure tandem 
Astitit arguta Calliopeia lyra; 

Astitit, inque meo preciosas corpore vestes 
Ut vidit, pavidum rettulit inde pedem; 

Nec potuit culti faciem dea nosse poetse, 
Corporaque in Tyrio conspicienda sinu: 

Si minus ergo tibi meritas ago carmine grates, 
Frustrata est calamum Diva vocata meum ; 

Mox tibi sublato modulabor pectine versus, 
Cultibus assuerit cum mea musa novis. 


No. XIV. p. 100. 

Aloysius Laurentio de Medicis. 

Magnifice vir affinis noster carissime. Non possumus non laetari 
summopere, cum bene valere vos & vestra omnia bene esse sentimus. 
Redivit nuper ad nos e Roma, dilectus consiliarius noster magister 
Ludovicus de Ambasia, qui cum iter per Florentiam fecerit, abunde 
retulit prospera vobis omnia succedere, quod profecto nobis admodum 
voluptati fuit: addiditque quantum a vobis perhumaniter exceptus 
fuerit, quamve interrogatus diligenter & summo cordis affectu de his 
quae nostra sunt, & nostra et regni nostri commoda concernunt. Ouod 
etsi factum sciamus non praeter solitum, habemus tamen, quas possu¬ 
mus, gratias ingentiores prestantiae vestrae, quae ita omni tempore 
solicitam se praebeat rerum nostrarum, quas sibi & amicis cordi non 
dubitamus, tametsi quis hortatus fuerit nos, ut rem majori experimento 
comprobaremus: sed sinentes eum in sua sententia credimus contra- 
rium, & nobis & vobis notum satis, experientia docente. De vobis erga 
nos integram illam servabimus opinionem, quam gessimus semper, & 
verba & rerum effectus comprobarunt. 

Caeterum facit ilia, quam semper erga nos gessistis, benevolentia, ut 
quae nostra intersunt libenter vobiscum communicemus. Relatum 
fuit nobis superioribus mensibus Regem Ferdinandum tractasse, ut 
filia sua primogenita matrimonio jungeretur moderno Duci Subaudiae, 
cum dote trecentum millium ducatorum, sed rem adhuc esse imperfec- 
tam : ex quo mente revolventibus nobis quid potius bono & commodo 
ipsius Regis & nostro conveniret, illud videtur potissimum, ut invicem 



APPENDIX, XV. 


473 


nos & ilium ligaret aliquod matrimonii vinculum; quocirca in hanc 
sententiam & deliberationem venimus, quod contenti essemus quod filia 
sua Delphino Yiennensi primogenito nostro nuberet: quod per vos 
eidem Regi notum fieri vellemus, & fieri inde certiores de mente sua 
circa hoc, & si negocium aggredi intendit, quam dotem filiae se da- 
turum dicet; quamvis ab ipso potius quam dotis summam quantitatem, 
cujus rei loco & tempore vestromet verbo stabimus, veram amicitiam & 
confederationem perpetuam expeteremus, quae sibi contra quoscumque 
inimicos suos ac praesertim contra domum Andegavensem, quae nobis 
etiam, quod hac conventione mediante Rex ipse contra Regem Arago- 
num nobis praestabit auxilium & favorem, & amicus erit amicis nostris, 
& inimicus inimicis. Quae omnia nobis aperienda duximus his nostris 
tantum, ut quamprimum habita communicatione horum omnium cum 
Rege ipso, vestro medio, aut illorum, quibus onus per vos demandatum 
erit, quantocius fieri poterit, certiores fiamus de his, quae intendit & 
sentit Rex ipse super haec, quae si Majestati suae convenire vide- 
buntur, ut executioni mandentur, dabitur opera, & Oratores nostros 
Florentiam mittemus vel in regnum suum pro conclusione terminanda, 
qua habita, poterit & ipse suos transmitter ad nos visum filium nos¬ 
trum primogenitum, & ad alia exequenda quae occurrunt. Et gratum 
esset quod tarn pro his, quam pro aliis nonnullis negociis, quae nobis¬ 
cum communicanda saepe veniunt, ad nos aliquem ex vestris mitteretis, 
qui saltern certo tempore apud nos esset, qui habebit opportunitatem 
adeundi & redeundi. Sed hunc vellemus praemonitum, ne alicui se 
committat ex Magnatibus & Dominis de sanguine nostro, sed nobis 
tantum. Postremo quae oblectant non omittemus. Rogamus igitur 
vos, ut aliquem canem ex vestris a vobis dono habeamus, & etiamsi 
unum mittatis, satis erit, dummodo pulcher sit & magnus, quern apud 
personam nostram & cameram servari faciemus. Scrip turn Ambasiae 
decima nona die mensis Junii, 14/3. 


No. XV. p. 101. 

Ferdinandus Rex Siciliae 
Laurentio de' Medicis. 

Magnifice vir amice noster carissime. Etsi tanto in nos amore esse 
jampridem vos intellexerimus, ut nulla praeterea testification^ opus sit, 
quin cxaltationem nostri status & nominis semper optaveritis, tamen 
litterae eae quas nuperrime accepimus, & ea quae Augustinus Biliottus 
retulit, ita nobis amorem ipsum significarunt, ut omnino ditficillimum 
nunc quidem videatur judicare, utrum ab Alfonso ipso filio nostro 
magis vel amemur vel veneremur, quam a Laurentio, qui & amantissi- 
mus nostri est, & officii plenissimus. Facitis itaque, ut amicum ami- 
cissimum decet, qui nobis conditionem proponatis, quae honori & 



474 


APPENDIX, XV. 


commodo nostro factura sit maximam accessionem, dum foedus ferien- 
dum, iniendam esse affinitatem cum Rege Maximo Francorum, dan- 
damque tiliam nostram filio ejus primogenito uxorem suadetis, ut ipse 
suis ad vos literis scribit. Qua de re nos vobis debere profitemur, 
quantum ut cupimus persolvere, ita posse optamus. Sed ut meam 
mentem aliquando intelligatis, esset sane nobis non modo gratum, sed 
optatissimum etiam cum Rege ipso foedus percutere, inireque affinita¬ 
tem, quern ut nobilissimo genere, ita amplissimo regno, primum esse 
in toto orbe, non ignoramus. Sed quando iis conditionibus res ipsa 
proponitur, quam cum integritate honoris nostri accipere nullo modo 
possumus, caussa est cur molestissime feramus. Etenim non modo 
adversus Serenissimum Regem Aragonum patruum nostrum nos un- 
quam. colligare, sed ipsi deesse tarn iniquum putamus, ut prius mori 
statuamus, quam id simus facturi, vel quod ita ejus in nos beneficia 
postulant, vel quod pietas nostra in ilium tanta est, ut nobis ipsis 
deesse, quam illi aequius putemus; neque movere nos debet, quod 
Rex ipse pollicetur, si conditionem acceperimus, futurum se hostem 
familiae Andegavensis. Ille enim jure optimo & posset & deberet id 
facere propter Andegavensium ipsorum perfidiam, eorumdemque in 
eum inimicitias. At ego immanitate ac potius feritate adductus vide- 
bor, si patruo defuero, cum adesse saltern ratione familiae, quando 
cetera arctiora vincula deessent, semper debebo, nisi is esse voluerim, 
qui meis desim, ut adsim externis. Quamobrem quod ad iniendam 
affinitatem, foedusque Rex ipse paciscitur, ut ego patruo meo adverser 
atque sibi foveam, aequius sanctiusque fuisset, si se affinitatis ipsius 
gratia fautorem mecum patruo meo dixisset; visusque esset cum pro 
sua humanitate agere, turn affinitatem banc familiae meae commodo 
potius quam ejusdem incommodo desiderare, et honoris mei habere 
rationem. Impedit etiam haec non minus ictum foedus & societas, 
quae nobis est cum IlLmo Burgundiae Duce, quam ut optatissimum 
fuit inire, ita nunc tueri esse debet jucundissimum. Ex quo fit ut nisi 
Rex ipse cum illo etiam Principe in pace victurus sit, perducere quo 
velle se ostendit negotium non potuerimus. Ita enim aequitatis ama- 
tores, fidei nostrae observatores sumus, ut hanc omnibus nostris com- 
modis praeponamus. Honorem autem nostrum tanti facimus, ut non 
modo res caeteras, verum etiam regnum universum nostrum amittere, 
& capitis subire periculum malimus, quam ex eo ipso honore quidquid 
imminui patiamur. Verum si Rex ipse facturus est, quod ejus alioqui 
humanitatis officium fuerit, ut neque in patruum nostrum, neque in 
Ducem, amicum socium & fratrem bellum sit habiturus, sed vires suas 
in fidei hostes versurus, ex quibus gloriam atque triumphum honestius 
possit referre, non modo affinitatem societatemque annuemus, sed pol- 
licebimur nos omnia facturos, quae vel honori, vel commodo ei futura 
intelligamus. Neque vero Regi ipsi aegre ferendum est, si fidem datam 
honoremque ac familiae nostrae imperium non minui aut labefactari 
velimus: quandoquidem si aliter faceremus, neque ipsi in nobis spem 
reponere, aut fidem habere conveniens foret, quern scimus etiam non 
ignorare gerenda esse bella in eos, a quibus injuriam acceperit. Nos 
autem qua injuria provocemur, aut ab rege patruo nostro, aut ab Illmo 


APPENDIX, XVI. 


475 


Burgundiae Dace, quis est qui ignoret ? Quod si regnum ipse habere 
potest tranquillum & otiosum, simul Deo immortali gratias agere, 
eumdemque precari ut tale semper habere liceat, simul eo contentus 
esse debet ; ne si aliud appetat, non suum, violare jus videatur hu- 
manae societatis. Quamobrem suadere vos Regi poteritis honestissimas 
conditiones, quas si accepturus est, accipiemus nos quas ille nobis 
proponit. Proinde date operam ut persuadeatis, ita enim nos vobis 
obligaveritis, ut qui nunc magnum quoddam vobis debemus, infinitum 
simus debituri. Reliquum est, si quid vestra caussa efficere possumus, 
licet utamini facultate nostra, quoad nostrae vires patientur. Datum 
in Castello Novo Neapolis die IX. Augusti, 1473. 


No. XVI. p. 129. 

LUIGI per la gratia di Dio Re di Francia. 

Carissimi & grandi amici. Noi abbiamo di presente saputo el 
grande & inhumano oltraggio, opprobrio, ingiuria, che, non e molto, 
furono facti tanto a Yostre Signorie, come alle persone da nostri 
carissimi & amati cugini Lorenzo & Giuliano de’ Medici, & a loro 
amici & parenti, servidori & allegati per quegli del Bancho & delle 
alleganze de’ Pazzi; & cosi la morte del nostro decto cugino Giuliano 
de’ Medici, donde noi siamo stati & siamo cosi dolenti come di cosa, 
che ci potessi advenire; & percio che lo honore vostro & il nostro 
ve stato tanto grandemente offeso ; & perche e Medici sono nostri 
parenti, amici & collegati, & perclib noi reputiamo el decto oltraggio 
& la morte del decto nostro cugino Giuliano essere di tale efiecto, che 
se fusse fatto & commesso nella nostra propria persona, & per questo 
tutti e decti Pazzi criminosi laesae Majestatis ; noi che per niente 
vorremo sofferire, che la cosa restasse impunita, ma desideriamo de 
tucto nostro cuore ne sia facto punitione & correctione per exemplo 
di tutti gli altri. Et habbiamo pensato di mandare verso Yostre 
Signorie il nostro amato e fedele Consigliere & Cameriere el Signore 
d’ Argentona Siniscalco del nostro paese de Poetous, che e oggi uno 
degli uomini che noi habbiamo, nel quale habbiamo maggior fidanza, 
per farvi sapere bene a lungo la nostra intentione, che vi dira & 
exporrk piil cose toccanti questa materia. Preghiam voi che di tucto 
quello vi dirk da nostra parte, che gli vogliate credere, & prestargli 
altrettanta fede, quanta voi fareste alia nostra propria persona, perche 
con questa intentione ve lo mandiamo. Pregando Iddio, carissimi & 
grandi amici, che vi tenga in sua guardia. Dat. 12 Maii, 14/8. 

Laur. Med. Ludovico Francice Regi. 

Serenissime Reg. & Domine mi singularissime. Litterse Majestatis 
Vestrae, quas ilia ad me super infelici nostro casu dignata est scribere, 



476 


APPENDIX, XVI. 


incredibilem quemdam in me amorem & paternam charitatem prae se 
ferunt; nam & quam ipsa acerbe calamitatem nostram tulerit, & 
quam egregio in nos animo sit, facile iis litteris certior sum factus. 
Quod si velim nunc ei gratias pro merito agere, ineptus profecto, 
tantique beneficii ignarus sim judicandus. Tanta enim amoris bene- 
volentiaeque significatio in humilem servulum a Regia Maj estate pro- 
fecta nullis certe aut rebus aut verbis nostris pensari potest. Est 
tamen magnanimitatis Regiae, vestraeque praesertim animum hunc 
meum fide plenum saltern pignoris, aut arrhabonis loco accipere. Re¬ 
siduum nostri debiti speramus Majestati Yestrae Deum saltern perso- 
luturum. Quod autem tarn sapienter vestra eadem Majestas me con- 
solatur, ut tantam calamitatem forti animo feram, sic pro certo liabeat 
me non tarn hoc tempore meam ipsius vicem, quam Christiani nominis 
indignitatem dolere; unde enim maximum auxilium mibi in tam 
acerbo casu sperabam, in eo potissimum totius mali caput fontemque 
deprehendo. Nam & sese unum, multis praesentibus, fateri ultro est 
ausus, ejus facinoris caussam extitisse, & in me meosque filiolos, suc¬ 
cessors, complices & benevolos excommunicationem iniquissimam 
promulgavit. Nec contentus eo, etiam arma contra banc Rempubli- 
cam parat, etiam Ferdinandum Regem in nos concitavit, etiam Ferdi- 
nandi primogenitum cum magna militum multitudine, cum infestis 
armis contra hanc Rempublicam venire compulit, ut quos dolo & fraude 
non penitus delevit, vi & armis deleat. Ego enim mihi sum conscius, 
Deus autem testis adest, nihil me commisisse contra Pontificem nisi 
quod vivam, quod me interfici non sim passus, quod Omnipotentis 
Dei gratia me protexerit; hoc meum est peccatum, hoc scelus, ob hoc 
unum exterminari excommunicarique sum meritus. Deum tamen 
optimum cordium scrutatorem, justissimum judicem, meae innocentiae 
testem, minime permissurum credo, ut quem illemet inter suas aras 
& sacra, ante sui corporis sacramentum, a sacrilegis illis, non ab hac 
etiam injustissima calumnia defensum velit. Nobiscum faciunt Ca- 
nonicae leges, nobiscum jus naturale & politicum, nobiscum veritas & 
innocentia, nobiscum Deus atque homines sunt: ille haec omnia uno 
tempore violat, & nos secum volutari percupit. Haec ego ad Majes- 
tatem vestram tanquam ad pium parentem scribenda decrevi, a qua 
procul dubio propter suam bonitatem, innocentiam, animique magni- 
tudinem multum auxilii, multum favoris ac praesidii, ubi opus fuerit, 
expectamus: Neminem enim bonum passurum arbitramur, ut qui se 
in haec facinora praecipitem jaciat, in idem secum praecipitium & 
Christianum nomen protrahat. Valeat V. S. M. cui me semper humil- 
lime commendo. Florentiae, die 19 Junii, 14/8. 

Laur. Med. Hispaniarum Regi. 

Serenissime & Excellentissime Domine mi rex : post humilem com- 
mendationem, &c. Nunciatum mihi est superioribus diebus Majestatem 
vestram in acerbissimo illo tempore, quo mihi dulcissimus frater meus 
Julianus tam crudeliter in medio templo ereptus est, ego vulnere petitus 
sum, scripsisse ad me quasdam litteras plenas amoris & charitatis ; 


APPENDIX, XVII. 


477 


quae tamem nescio qua caussa mihi redditae non fuerunt. Atque 
utinam redditae forent! Mirifice enim tanti Regis commotio dolorem 
ilium recentem adhuc meum, qui me pene obruit, lenisset. Quod si 
vel tunc saltern & a Majestate vestra missas, & in itinere detentas 
scivissem, non mediocri mibi solatio & hoc ipsum extitisset. Egis- 
semque jam tunc gratias Majestati vestrae pro sua hac tarn egregii in 
me animi significatione : & nunc profecto quam maximas possum ago, 
meque ipsi magnopere devinctum obligatumque profiteor. Neque 
quicquam malim hoc tempore, quam dari occasionem mihi, qua meam 
erga Majestatem vestram devotionem aliquo argumento ostendere 
possim. Sed cum non ipsae modo litterae, sed vel nutus tanti Regis 
omnes meas superet vires, quando, re ipsa, mihi nequeo satisfacere, 
animo certe meo vestrae semper Majestati devotissimo, uberrime mihi 
satisfaciam. Commendo autem me semper Majestati Vestrae, Domine 
mi Rex, eamque rogo, ut me sub umbra alarum suarum accipiat. Res 
nostras Majestati vestrae scio esse notissimas. Nos quantam possu- 
mus ad bellum accingimur, damusque operam, ut viribus saltern hos- 
tium resistamus. Et resistemus procul dubio, ut spero; nam & ipsi 
nobis non desumus, & affuturum Deum meliori caussae speramus. 
Iterum me vestrae Serenissimm Majestati commendo, quam Deus per- 
petuo felicissimam conservet. Florentiae, die 3 Aprilis, 1479. Ejusdem 
Serenissimae Majestatis Vestrae 

Devotissimus Servitor 

Laurentius de’ Medicis. 


No. XVII. p.134. 

SIXTUS PAPA IV. 


Ad futuram rei memoriam. 

Iniquitatis filius & perditionis alumnus Laurentius de Medicis, & 
nonnulli alii cives Florentini, ejus in hac parte complices & fautores, 
superioribus annis reprobi sensus, ac perversae & damnatae condi¬ 
tion^ filio Nicolao de Vitellis, ut ejusdem Romanae Ecclesiae Civitatem 
Castelli nobis rebellem faceret, eamque per tyrannidem occuparet, & 
detineret occupatam, consulere, favere & auxiliari, etiam postquam per 
litteras & nuncios nostros Laurentium, & complices praedictos paterne 
monueramus, atque ut a praestandis dicto Nicolao auxiliis hujusmodi 
desiste rent,charitative requisiveramus, quibus potuere viribus non 
expaverunt, quinimo tanquam aspis surda nostris hujusmodi requi- 
sitionibus aures claudentes pertinaces, etiam postquam dilectus filius 
noster Julianus tituli S. Petri ad Vincula Presbyter Cardinalis in par- 



478 


APPENDIX, XVII. 


tibus illis Apostolicae Sedis Legatus, quem cum exercitu, ut ipsam 
civitatem Castelli ad ejusdem Ecclesiae obedientiam & devotionem 
reduceret, transmiseramus, se illuc contulerat, ac exercitus hujusmodi 
noster apud civitatem antedictam castra metaretur, & illam teneret 
obsessam Laurentius & complices praedicti, non ignari etiam gravium 
aliarum censurarum & poenarum, quas per certas alias nostras speciales 
litteras publicatas ipso facto erant incursuri quicumque dicto Nicolao & 
ejus gentibus auxilium darent, consilium, vel favorem, quodque omnes 
& singulos, qui ipsi Nicolao quovis modo obligati ad ejus defensionem 
censeri poterant, quamquam contra dictam Romanam Ecclesiam 
ad eumdem Nicolaum ipsius Ecclesiae subditum & vassallum, praeser- 
tim in hujusmodi rebellione defendendum nemo potuit, ut notorium 
est, se obligare, ad cautelam tamen ab omni foederis, ligae, & juramenti 
vinculo quemcumque ad hujusmodi effectum tendente absolveramus, 
eidem Nicolao, quantum in eis per amplius favere & auxiliari non 
destiterunt, usque adeo, ut cum Nicolaus antedictus, omnipotenti Deo 
caussam Ecclesiae suae curante, a praedicta civitate ejectus extitisset, 
nosque in ea arcem pro potiori illius tutela, construi & aedificari man- 
davissemus, idem Laurentius & complices praedicti Nicolao praedicto, 
ut contra fidem per eum nobis datam, civitatem praenominatam 
per proditionem reingredi, & iterum occupare, praedictam Romanam 
Ecclesiam spoliando, valeret, rursus assistere ac pOstmodum ipse 
Nicolaus hujusmodi perfido suo proposito, adnitentibus in contra 
rium & contra eos, qui dictae arci per nos propositi erant, deceptus 
remansisset, eamdem, cum suis receptare, plerasque simultate^ & con- 
spirationes cum eo adversus eamdem Romanam Ecclesiam facere, mala 
malis addendo, similiter non formidaverint. 

His quoque con contend, cum dicta civitate ipsam Romanam Eccle¬ 
siam, ut cupiebant, spoliare non possent, ut adversus eamdem, a qua 
tot honores & commoda, ac etiam in eorum opportunitatibus auxilia 
consecuti esse dignoscuntur, conceptum virus ditfusius evomerent suis 
pravis & dolosis machinationibus, ut quidam Carolus de Montone Peru- 
sinam etiam civitatem a nostrae & praedictae Romanae Ecclesiae obe- 
dientia & devotione, quibus subest, subtraheret, ac suae tyraimidi sub- 
jiceret, solicitatis ad id etiam nonnullis dictae civitatis, procurarunt, 
propter quae non minus graves impensas subire, quam de aliquorum 
subditorum nostrorum fide dubitare, & in nonnullos, qui culpabiles 
reperti fuerunt, animadvertere coacti sumus. Quinimo deinceps cum 
praedictum Carolum vana spe in hujusmodi negotio & tractatu illusum 
videret, ne ab incoeptis ob inopiam desistere cogeretur, Laurentius an¬ 
tedictus non advertens, quod Italiae pace turbata, & debilitatis dictae 
Ecclesiae Romanae viribus, atrocissimo Turcomun Principi immanissimo 
Fidei Ortliodoxae hosti, facilior ad Italiam ipsam aditus aperiebatur, 
praedictum Carolum, ut congregato facino-rosorum hominum exercitu 
in Senensem agrum incursiones faceret, ipsumque depopularetur, & in 
praedam daret, ac plurima inibi nefanda perpetraret, induxit, ad finem 
etiam, ut substentato pro tempore ejus exercitu, nec intermissa interim 
proditione, solicitatione, Perusinam civitatem praedictam Carolus ipse 
de improviso ingredi, & ea per fraudem potiri valeret. Quod quidem 


APPENDIX, XVII. 


479 


cum per Dei poteutiam minus eis ad votum similiter, successisset, & 
nos pro conservanda Italiae pace Castrum Montonis a dicto Carolo in 
territorio Perusino per antea possessum, qui his scandalis occasionem 
praebuerat, & in dies praebere posse videbatur, prout poterat, veri- 
similiter, formidari, ad jus & proprietatem ejusdem Romanae Ecclesiae, 
data prius pro eo recompensa, reduci curaremus, idem Laurentius & 
complices, etsi nulla injuria per nos, aut per nostros lacessiti fuissent, 
in suo pravo animo contra Romanam Ecclesiam praedictam improbe 
perseverantes, ne hujusmodi Castrum ad eamdem Ecclesiam deveniret 
neve scandalorum materia tolleretur, destinatis ad id armigeris quorum 
nonnulli ductores a nostris postea intercepti sunt, exquisitis & damnatis 
viis impedire tentarunt. 

Insuper ut eamdem Romanam Ecclesiam, cumulatis contra eamdem 
improbis favoribus, magis opprimere conarentur, Deiphebum de An- 
gudlaria quondam Aversi etiam de Anguillaria Comitis filium per felicis 
recordationis Paullum secundum Praedecessorem nostrum, exigentibus 
ejus demeritis, olim a detentione terrarum, castrorum & locorum, qui 
in territorio ipsius Romanae Ecclesiae per tyrannidem possidebat, 
amotum, & a terris ejusdem Romanae Ecclesiae exulem factum, ut se 
Carolo praedicto cum armata manu conjungeret, quo praedicta Ecclesia 
Romana a duobus fortius lacesseretur, evocari, venientemque in terri- 
toriis Dominii Florentini recipi, ac per plures dies ibidem commorari 
procurarunt. 

Praeterea ad Castra ejusdem Ecclesiae anhelantes, & apertis faucibus 
inhiantes, Castrum Citernae Civitatis Castelli Diocesis, quod ad eandem 
Ecclesiam pertinere dignoscitur, per insidias nocturnas clam invadere, 
& dato ad id nonnullis armigeris negotio, tyrannidi eorum subjicere, 
quamvis temerariis eorum ausibus fidelium dicti Castri custodum opera 
& diligentia obstiterit, minime erubuerunt; nec minus sententias & 
censuras per Praedecessores nostros, & nos successive in Bulla, quae in 
Coena Domini singulis annis legitur & publicatur, in eos latas, qui ad 
Sedem Apostolicam venientes, vel recedentes ab eadem, temeritate 
propria capiunt, detinent, aut talia fieri mandant, nec non qui Romi- 
petas & peregrinos ad Urbem caussa peregrinationis & devotionis acce- 
dentes capiunt, detinent, seu depraedantur, aut aliis super his auxilium 
praestant, consilium & favorem, pariformiter & per piratas & latrun- 
colos maritimos, & illos praecipue, qui mare nostrum a monte Argen- 
tario usque ad Terracinam discurrere, & navigantes in illo depraedari, 
vulnerare, interficere, & rebus ac bonis suis spoliare praesumpserint, 
receptant, aut eis auxilium dant, consilium, vel favorem, simul etiam, 
qui victualia, vel aha ad usum Romanae Curiae necessaria deducentes, 
ne ad Curiam ipsam deducantur, vel deferantur, impediunt, invadunt, 
seu perturbant, & qui talia facientes receptant, vel defendunt, idem 
Laurentius, & complices sui praedicti parvi pendentes, & elevata cervice 
atque animo more Pharaonis indurato contemnentes & spernentes, 
multos ad ipsam Curiam Romanam caussa prosequendi negotia sua 
venientes & novissime dilectos filios Bernardum Sculteti de Luniborgo, 
Thimoholui de Leytzhau, & Henricum Brandis Clericum Lubicensem, 
Romipetas & peregrinos, qui ad Urbem eandem caussa devotionis acce- 


480 


APPENDIX, XVII. 


(lebant, capere, bonis spoliare, & carceri mancipare, nec non quasdam 
triremes remigiis & aliis navalibus instruments abunde munitas in 
mare nostrum praefatum discurrentes & navigantes, in illo depraedantes, 
bonisque & rebus eorum spoliantes, vulnerantes & interficientes, nec 
non & victualia, quae ad usum dictae Curiae Romanae necessaria ad 
eandem pro tempore deferebantur, invadentes, receptare, defendere, 
favoribus prosequi, alimenta eisdem non denegando, ut (quod deterius 
est) etiam stipendiis ordinariis conducere & adjuvare praesumpserunt, 
contumaciter in hujusmodi censuris & poems, etiam per diuturna tem- 
pora insordescentes. 

Porro ne quid sceleris intentatum aut inausum relinquerent, non 
immemores aut ignari censurarum & poenarum in sacris canonibus 
contra violatores Ecclesiasticae libertatis & dictae Sedis auctoritatis per 
eosdem Praedecessores nostros diversis temporibus successive promulga- 
tarum & contentarum, cum nos dudum Ecclesiae Pisanae certo modo 
vacanti, de venerabilium Fratrum nostrorum S. R. E. Cardinalium 
consilio, de persona bonae memoriae Francisci Archiepiscopi Pisani 
eumdem illi in Archiepiscopum praeficiendo providissemus, Laurentius 
& complices sui praedicti, ne provisio hujusmodi debitum sortiretur 
affectum, per plura tempora prohibere mandatis nostris palam resisten- 
do non formidarunt. Deindeque cum per Omnipotentis Dei gratiam 
dictae Sedis praevaluisset auctoritas, idemque Franciscus Archiepisco- 
pus, qui etiam ex insigni familia Salviatorum optimorum civium Flo- 
rentinorum existebat, mandatorum nostrorum vigore regiminis & admi¬ 
nistrations dictae Pisanae Ecclesiae pacificam possessionem consecutus 
fuisset, idem Laurentius pravo & maligno animo tarn in eum, quam in 
multos alios dictae civitatis Florentinae etiam primarios & optimates 
cives odia exercens continue, dicti Archiepiscopi auctoritatem concul- 
care, & in iis, quae ad eum spectabant, indebite se immiscere, ac ipsius 
Archiepiscopi, sicut et tyrannide quadam Florentini populi, omnem 
auctoritatem sibi vendicare & usurpare non cessavit. 

Cum nos Salvatoris nostri exemplo, cujus proprium est misereri 
semper & parcere, sperantes eosdem Laurentium & complices tot & tan- 
torum excessuum per eos contra nos & praefatam Romanam Ecclesiam 
impie commissorum poenitere, & illatas injurias atque damna hujus¬ 
modi bene operando in dies recompensare debere haec omnino pro 
Italiae praesertim pace & quiete aequo animo tolerare devovissemus, eos- 
demque Laurenitum &. complices paterna charitate, ac si nun quam 
talia commisissent, prosequeremur, & pro posse non cessaremus, in 
cunctis complacere eisdem, contrarium spei nostrae hujusmodi nobis 
ex directo successit, nam cum ex eo, quia Laurentius ipse novissime 
multos ex dictis civibus Florentinis primariis partim relegare, partim 
de medio tollere, & occidere, sicut fertur, intendens, ut latior sibi ad 
vindictam & crudelitatem hujusmodi campus pateret, sese in unum ex 
Octo civibus Florentinis de Balia nuncupatis, assumi & eligi procura- 
verat, aegre hoc ferentibus civibus, ad aliquas civiles & privatas inter 
eos dissensiones deventum esset, Laurentius praedictus & tunc Priores 
Libertatis, acVixillifer Justitae dictae civitatis Florentinae, assistentibus 
eisdem complicibus reliquis ex dictis Octo de Balia nuncupatis, & non- 


APPENDIX, XYIT. 


481 


nullis aliis civibus dictae civitatis, Dei timore penitus abjecto, furore 
succensi, & diabolica suggestione vexati, ac tanquam canes ad efferam 
rabiem ducti, ut tandem sua libidine potiti, in Ecclesiasticas personas, 
quantum possent, ignominiosius saevirent, (prob dolor, & inauditum 
scelus!) in Archiepiscopum praedictum manus violentas injicere, & cap- 
turn per plures horas in publico Palatio residentiae eorumdem Priorum 
& Yexilliferi detinere, ac tandem communicato invicem desuper consi- 
lio, eum publice in fenestris dicti Palatii eminentibus coram populo in 
die Dominico laqueo turpiter suspendi fecere; cumque vitam finivisset, 
laqueum scindi, ut corpus ipsius in terram caderet quemadmodum ceci- 
dit (quod nedum referre, sed meminisse horremus) procurare minime 
erubuerunt; multosque deinde alios Presbyteros & Ecclesiasticos viros 
bonae conditionis & famae, quorum aliqui erant ex dilecti ffiii nostn 
Raphaelis S. Georgii ad Velum aureum Diaconi Cardinalis in Provincia 
nostra Ducatus Spoletani, & nonnullis aliis civitatibus, terris & locis 
praedictae Romanae Ecclesiae dictae Sedis Legati, & aliqui ex dictis 
Arcliiepiscopi familiaribus, partim suspendi, partim gladiis & fustibus 
confodi & necari palam & publice in Ecclesiasticae dignitatis oppro¬ 
brium fecerint, & deterrima prioribus aggrediendo Raphaelem Cardi- 
nalem & Legatum praedictum in dicta civitate Florentina in Ecclesia 
Cathedrali, dum ibidem divinis Officiis & Missarum solemniis eadem 
die Dominica interesset, capere & capi mandare, capturamque ipsam 
ratam habentes, eumdem sub fida custodia in praedicto Palatio teneri 
curarunt & curant, & dum venerabilis frater Nicolaus Episcopus Mo- 
drusensis noster, & ejusdem Sedis Nuncius ad hoc specialiter desti- 
natus, praedictos Laurentium, Priores, Vexilliferum, ac complices, ut 
Raphaelem Cardinalem, & Legatum praelibatum in sua libertate repo- 
nerent, nostro nomine requisivisset, illud negare, & se eumdem Cardi¬ 
nalem dimittere nolle pertinaciter affirmare non dubitarunt in Clericalis 
Ordinis & Pastoralis Officii yituperium. Quae omnia in Raphaelem 
Cardinalem, & Legatum ac Archiepiscopum, Presbyteros & Clericos 
praedictos perpetrata, communi omnium de eis notitiam habentium 
judicio damnata, publica omnium fama id attestante, & facti notorie- 
tate approbante, adeo referuntur, ut eorumdem de illis notitiam ha¬ 
bentium animi in hoc suspensi & oculi pendentes esse asserantur, & 
expectent quid a nobis in tales pro tantorum scelerum ultione sta- 
tuatur. 

Nos igitur praemissis omnibus debita meditatione pensatis, quamvis 
immensa scelestissimorum hominum crudelitatem, feritatemque imma- 
nissimam, ac flagitiosissimum & ignominiosum universae Ecclesiae 
Sanctae Dei dedecus turpiter illatum videamus, & a Praedecessoribus 
nostris in magnos Principes ob minora facinora acriter saevitum esse 
conspiciamus, fy infra> habita super his cum eisdem fratribus nostris 
S. R. E. Cardinalibus matura deliberatione, de illorum unanimi consilio, 
& assensu, auctoritate Apostolica tenore praesentium declaramus iniqui- 
tatis filios Laurentium, Priores Vexilliferum, Octo de Balia antedictos, 
tunc & qui illis in eorum Prioratus & Vexilliferatus, ac Octo de Balia 
Officii successerunt nunc existentes, ac omnes & singulos Ecclesiasti¬ 
cos & saeculares, qui eis in praemissis in Archiepiscopum & Raphaelem 


482 


APPENDIX, XVII. 


Cardinalem, Presbyteros & Clericos praefatos commissis praestiterunt & 
praestant auxilium, consilium vel favorem, detentionemque Raphaelis 
Cardinalis praefati continuant, quorum nomina & cognomina ac si ex- 
primerentur, volumus haberi pro expressis, cujuscumque status, gradus, 
ordinis vel conditionis existant, & quacumque Ecclesiastica vel mun- 
dana dignitate fungantur, propter praemissa in Raphaelem Cardinalem 
Franciscum Archiepiscopum, Presbyteros & Clericos praefatos com- 
missa, juxta bonae memoriae Bonifacii Papae Octavi similiter Praede- 
cessoris nostri, & Viennensis Concilii, ac aliorum Praedecessorum nos- 
trorum Constitutiones & Decreta criminis laesae Majestatis reos, sacri- 
legos, excommunicatos, anathematizatos,infames, diffidatos, intestabiles. 
Et ut publica repulsa confusi nullum inveniant suae militae successo- 
rem, cujuslibet haereditates esse ab intestato incapaces, feudis insuper ac 
locationibus, officiis & bonis spiritualibus & temporalibus, qui singuli 
eorum a praefatis Romana & Pisana Ecclesiis, necnon dictorum Lau- 
rentii, Priorum, Vexilliferi, Octo de Balia, & aliorum complicum filios 
& nepotes per rectam lineam descendentes, quibuscumque beneficiis 
Ecclesiasticis, quae quomodolibet tempore perpetrationis excessuum 
praedictorum obtinebant, qualiacumque forent, spe promotionis in fu- 
turum omnino sublata, privatos, nec non feuda ad bona locata liujus- 
modi, ad Ecclesias ipsas, ita ut ii, ad quos spectant, de illis pro sua 
voluntate disponant, reversa esse. Et euncta eorumdem Laurentii, 
Priorum, Vexilliferi, & Octo de Balia, ac auxilium, consilium, vel favo¬ 
rem praestantium, complicum, & adharentium hujusmodi aedificia in 
ruinam dari debere, ita ut eorum babitationes desertae fiant, & non sit 
qui eas inhabitet in posterum ; & ut perpetuam notam infamiae perpe- 
tua ruina testetur, nullo unquam tempore reparentur : nullum eis de- 
bita reddere, nullumve in judicio respondere teneri: nulli quoque fili- 
orum aut nepotum praedictorum per virilem sexum descendentium ab 
eisdem, alicujus aperiri debere januam dignitatis aut honoris Eeclesias- 
tici vel mundani, & ad alicujus loci regimen ascendere omnino posse ; 
postulandi facultatem eis negatam Notariatus, Judicatus, & quodlibet 
aliud officium, seu ministerium publicum interdictum ; ad Ordinis 
ascensum inhibitum, ad beneficia & officia Ecclesiastica denegatum 
ascensum existere. Et ut magis sit famosa eorum infamia, ad actus 
legitim os nullum eis aditum, nullamve portam patere. Quidquid 
in bonis tunc inveniebatur, eorumdem Fisci & Reipublicae dominio 
applicatum fore, ita ut ex illis nil transmittatur ad posteros, sed 
potius cum eis, & sua damnata existant. Florentinam praeterea & 
Fesulanam ac Pistoriensem illi propinquiores dominio subjectas Civi- 
tates & Dioceses Ecclesiastico & strictissimo interdicto suppositas 
esse, & praeter has poenas, eosdem Laurentium, Priores, Vexilliferum, 
Octo de Balia, auxiliatores, consultores, fautores, complices & adhae- 
rentes omnes, & singulas alias excommunicationis, anatliematis, & aeter- 
nae maledictionis sententias, censuras & poenas in tarn gravia crimina 
& excessus perpetrantes tarn a jure, quam per extravagantes constitu¬ 
tiones & litteras Praedecessorum praedictorum, & nostras inflictas in- 
currisse; ipsam quoque civitatem Florentinam, si infra mensem ei a 
jure statutum Laurentium, Priores, Vexilliferum, Octo, auxiliatores, 


APPENDIX, XVIII. 


483 


consultores, complices, fautores & adhaerentes praedictos, prout tanti 
facinoris exigit enormitas, & ei facultas affuerit, non duxerit puniendos, 
Pontificali, Archiepiscopali, qua decoratur, dignitate privatam fore, & 
nihilominus interdictam remanere, &c. Denique Laurentium Mediceum 
ac Magistratus solemni ritu diebus festis anathemate percelli jussit, 
atque cum iis eornmque sectatoribus ac sociis quodvis genus commercii 
haberi vetuit. Datum Romae, apud S. Petrum, anno Incarnationis 
Dominicae millesimo quadringentesimo septuagesimo octavo Kal. Junii, 
Pontificatus nostri anno VII. 


No. XVIII. p. 135. 

Excusatio Florentinorum per D. Bartholomaeum Sealant , ex MS. 

Codice Bibliothecae Stroctianae . 

Singulis atque universis, in quos haec scripta inciderint, Priores 
Libertatis, & Vexillifer Justitiae & Populus Florentinus salutem. 

Rem sumus narraturi inauditam & novam, adeo alienam ab omni 
humana natura & consuetudine vivendi, ut nihil dubitemus omnes qui 
audierint, veliementer tantam atrocitatem, atque immanitatem rei ad- 
miraturos. Movet autem nos non caussa modo nostra, ut haec scribe- 
remus, & nota faceremus, sed Christiana etiam & publica, quae profecto, 
his gubernatoribus, his moribus, dilabatur brevi, & funditus dispereat 
necesse est. Dum enim Religionis nostrae hostis post tot tantasque 
de bonis claras victorias in limine insultat, Italiae superbissimus atque 
formidabilissimus, dum imminet cervicibus nostris, & comminatur 
Romae, & nomini Christiano excidium, Sixtus Romanus Pontifex, & 
illi sui praeclari rerum administratores proditionibus dant operam 
sceleratissimis: insidiantur vitae & libertati populorum; incessunt 
maledictis cunctos bonos; interdicunt sacris admodum execrabiliter, 
ac bellum inferunt Christianis; & direptionibus & praedae atque in- 
cendiis, quocumque arma convertunt, pro viribus involvunt; nihil 
pensi aut habentes, sed foedantes omnia divina atque humana, barbaro 
potius quodam & ferino, quam aliquo humano more. Certo scimus 
non facile fuisse nos assensionem adepturos ob tarn nefarii facinoris 
magnitudinem; sed fama rei gestae jam per universum fere orbem 
vulgata, patrocinatur vero, & fidem scriptis his pulcherrime procurat. 
Quod si ex primis quoque scelerum Ministris audientur ea, quae 
ipsi cum in nostras devenissent manus morituri fassi sunt, & chiro- 
grapho suo tradiderunt nobis, erit profecto apud vos omni ex parte 
corroborata & stabilita veritas. Igitur visum est, ut ordinem omnem 
rei ipsi edoceant. Ex ipsis ergo Johannem Baptistam de Montesicco 
audiamus; ipse rem omnem ordine aperiet, cujus attestationis exemplar 
hoc est, videlicet. 

Questa sera la confessione, la quale fara Giovambatista da Monte- 



484 


APPENDIX, XVIII. 


sicco de sua mano propria, in la quale fara chiaro a omne uno 1* ordine, 
& el modo dato per mutar lo stato della citta de Fiorenza, comentiando 
dal principio infino alia fine, ne lasciando cosa alcuna inderietro, imo 
in narrando tutte le persone, con chi lui n’ aveva auto colloquio, & par- 
ticolarmente narrando le puntali parole auto con tutti quelli, con chi 
n’ ha parlato ; e prima con 1* Arcivescovo e Francesco de’ Pazzi ne 
parlai in Roma in la camera del detto Arcivescovo, dicendome volerme 
revelere un suo secreto & pensiero, che avevono piu tempo auto in core, 
e qui con sacramento volse, che io gli promettessi tenerli secreti, n& de 
questa cosa parlarne, ne non parlarne se non quanto saria il bisognio, 
e quanto porteria, e vorria a loro, & io cosi gli promissi. 

L’ Arcivescovo comincio a parlare, facendome entendere, como lui e 
Francesco avevono el modo di mutare lo Stato di Fiorenza, e che deter- 
minavono ad omne modo farlo, & che ci voleva 1’ ajuto mio. Io glie 
rispuosi, che per loro faria ogni cosa, ma essendo soldato del Papa e 
del Conte, io non ci podeva intervenire; loro mi rispuoson: como 
credi tu che noi faremo questa cosa senza consentimento del Conte; 
imo cio che si cerca, e che si fa per esaltario e magnificario cosi lui, 
come noi, e per mantenerlo nello Stato suo, avvisandoti, che se questa 
cosa non si fa, non ghe daria del suo Stato una fava, perche Lorenzo 
de’ Medici gli vuol mal di morte, n& crede che sia uomo al mondo, che 
gli voglia peggio ; e dopo la morte del Papa non cerchera mai altro che 
torli quel poco Stato, e farlo mal capitare della persona, perche da lui 
se sente grandemente ingiuriato. Et volendo io entendere-el perche 
& la cagione Lorenzo era cosi inimico del Conte, mi disse cose assai 
sopra questa parte e della Depositeria e dell’ Arcivescovato di Pisa, & 
pih cose, che sareano ionghe a scrivere; e in fine fu fatto questa con¬ 
clusion, che dove concorreva 1* onore, e utole del Conte, & el loro, io 
mi sforzeria a fare juxta posse tutto quel, che pel Conte mi sara coman- 
dato; & tutte queste cose furono comune frallo Arcivescovo & Francesco, 
& che un altro di se devesse essere insieme & con il Conte proprio, e 
pigliare determinazione de quello s’ aveva da fare, & cosi se remase, &c. 
La cosa remase cosi per parecchi giorni, ne me fo detto altro, ma so 
bene, che fra 1* Arcivescovo e Francesco & el Signor Conte ne fo in 
questo tempo parlato pih volte. 

Dapoi un giorno fui chiamato dal Signor Conte in camera sua, dove 
era 1’ Arcivescovo, e cominzio a parlarsi de novo di questa cosa, dicen¬ 
dome el Conte: 1’ Arcivescovo me dice, che t’ hanno parlato d’ una 
faccenda, che avemo alle mani: que te ne pare ? Io gli rispuosi: 
Signore, non so que me ne dire di questa cosa, perche non la intendo 
ancora; quando 1’ avero intesa, diro el mio parere. L’ Arcivescovo : 
como non t’ ho io ditto, che volemo mutare lo stato in Fiorenza? 
Madiasi che me Y avete detto, ma non m’ avete detto el modo; che 
non avendo inteso el modo, non so que ne parlare. Allora e 1’ uno e 
1’ altro ussinno fuora, e cominciorno a dire della malivolenza e mal 
animo, che 1’ Magnifico Lorenzo aveva contro de loro, e ’n quanto pe- 
ricolo era lo Stato del Conte dopo la morte del Papa, & che mutandosi 
ditto Stato saria uno stabilire el Sig. Conte da non possere avere mai 
piu male, e che per questo si voleva fare ogni cosa. E domandandoglie 


APPENDIX, XVIII. 


485 


io del modo e del favore, mi dissero: noi averemo questo modo, che in 
Fiorenza e la casa de’ Pazzi e de’ Salviati, che si tirano dietro mezzo 
la citta di Fiorenza Bene; avete voi pensato el modo ? El modo lassa 
io pensare a costoro, che dicono non potersi fare per altra via, che 
tagliare a pezzi Lorenzo e Giuliano, & aver poi preparato le genti d’ arme, 
& andarsene a Fiorenza, e che bisogna accumulare queste genti d’ arme 
in modo, che non se ne dia sospetto; che non dandose suspetto, ogni 
cosa verria ben fatta. Io gli rispuosi: Signore, vedete quel che voi 
fate: io vi certifico, che questa e una gran cosa; ne so como cos¬ 
toro se lo possono fare, perche Fiorenza e una gran cosa; e la Magni- 
ficenza di Lorenzo ci ha una grande benevolenza, secondo io intendo. 
El Conte disse : dicono costoro el contrario : che ci ha poca grazia, & 
e malissimo voluto, & che morti loro, ognuno giungera le mani al Cielo. 
L’ Arcivescovo usi fuora, e disse : Giovambatista, tu non sei mai stato 
a Fiorenza : le cose de la, & la cognizione di Lorenzo noi lo ’ntendiamo 
meglio di voi, e sappiamo la benevolenza e la malevolenzia, che egli ha 
in nel popolo, e de questo non dubitare, che la reussira, como noi siamo 
qui. Tutto el facto &, che ce resolviamo del modo. Bene; que modo 
ci e? El modo ci e riscaldar Messer Jacomo, che e pih freddo che una 
ghiaccia; e como aviamo lui, la cosa e spacciata, ne n’ & da dubitar 
punto. Bene; a Nostro Signore como piacera questa cosa? E’ me 
respuosoro: Nostro Signore li faremo far sempre quello vorrimo noi, 
& ancora la Sua Santita vuol male a Lorenzo ; desidera questo piu che 
altro che sia. Aveteneglie voi parlato ? Madiasi, e faremo che te ne 
dira ancora a te, e te fara intendere la sua intenzione. Pensiamo pure 
in que modo possiamo mettere le genti d’ arme insieme senza suspetto, 
che 1’ altre cose passaranno tutte bene. Fo preso el modo di far far la 
mostra, e de mutare le genti d’ arme da stanzia a stanzia, e mandare 
quelli del Signore Napolione in quello di Todi e de Perusia, e cosi el 
Signor Giovanfrancesco da Gonzaga; e cosi fo dato ordine. Da poi 
comincio andar per il tavoliero el fatto del Conte Carlo, e per ditta 
casione bisogno mettere insieme ognuno, che 1’ ebbero molto caro: & 
essendo il campo del Conte Carlo, in quello di Siena, & comprenden- 
dose chiaramente la cosa non avere durata, fu fatta deliberazione d’ an- 
dare a campo a Montone, e tenere in tempo l* assedio pih che se 
posseva, a cagion che costoro avesser tempo a dare ordine alia spedi- 
zione della faccienda; e per detta occasione venne Francesco de’ Pazzi 
in quel tempo qui in Fiorenza con demostrazione di fuggir Y aiere, & 
fo a questo effetto; & essendo stato detto Francesco per alcuni giorni, 
scrisse a Roma all’ Arcivescovo, como passavano le cose, & che bisog¬ 
na va riscaldare e pungere Messer Jacomo, e farglie intendere tutti li 
favori se ara in questa cosa, &c. Et il modo delle genti d’ arme e tutto 
quello favore se podeva avere, farglielo intendere chiaramente, & in- 
teselo se lassasse poi il pensiero a lui, che a tutto daria buon ordene; 
& accadendo in quello medesimo tempo la malattia del Sig. Carlo di 
Faenza, & essendo stato longo tempo ammalato, venne in pericolo de 
morte, & dubitandose assai della morte sua, parse al Conte & alio 
Arcivescovo avere scusa licita di mandarme qui con intenzione, che io 
vedesse i modi di questa citta & ancora del Magnifico Lorenzo, e che 


486 


APPENDIX, XVIII. 


io parlasse con seco, & intendesse da lui, yolendo el Conte cercare de 
aravere el suo stato, cio& Valdeseno, que favorise podeva avere de Sua 
Magnificenza e da questa Repubblica per suo mezzo, & che glie fesse 
intendere, che il Sig. Conte sperava piu in sua Magnificenza, die per¬ 
sona del mondo, e che in questo io intendesse il consiglio & el parere 
suo, e che gli fesse ancora intendere, che non ostante alcune cose fos- 
sero state fra loro e *1 Conte, le voleva buttare tutte da patre, & in 
omne cosa desponerse a compiacerlo, & averlo in loco de parte; & con 
molte altre buone parole appresso, quali erono la maggior parte simu¬ 
late. Et arrivando qui tardi la sera, non poti parlare con Sua Magni- 
ficenzia. La mattina andai a trovarlo, e se ne venne di sotto vestito a 
nero per la morte dell’ Orsino, & fommo insieme ne altramente me 
respuose, che si fosse stato patre del Conte, ne con altro amore, in 
modo che a me fe maravigliare, avendo inteso da altri, & poi ritrovan- 
dolo cosi ben disposto in le cose del Conte, che veramente non s’averia 
possuto parlare per niuno fratello piu amorevolmente, che me parlo, 
dicendome: Tu te ne girai a Imola, e vederrai come trovi le cose, e 
daraimene avviso de quello te parera s’abbia a fare dal canto nostro, 
che tutto si fara senza mancare de niente per satisfare alia Signoria 
del Conte, al quale e in questo & in omne altra cosa me sforzero sempre 
a satisfarlo .... con li piu amorevoli ricordi, che possesse mai patre 
a figholo, li quali ricordi li tacero per bene: la sua Magnificenzia gli 
deve bene avere a memoria: pur quando gli parra, che io gli chiarisca, 
pensece bene, e diamene avviso, che io gli chiariro. 

Dipoi me ne andai all* ostaria della Campana a desinare; et avendo 
a parlare a Francesco de’ Pazzi, & con Messer Jacomo pur de Pazzi, ai 
quali avevo lettere di credenza del Sig. Conte e dello Arcivescovo, infin 
che si desinb, mandai ad intendere qui n’ era de loro : me fo detto, 
che Francesco era andato a Lucca, e non c’ essendo, mandai a dire a 
Messer Jacomo predetto, che io aveva bisogno de parlarli, & de cose de 
’ mportanza, & che se voleva che io andassi a casa sua, che io anderia, & 
se lui voleva venire all’ ostaria, che io P aspettaria, Messer Jacomo 
predetto venne all’ ostaria della Campana, dove lui & mi ci ritirassimo 
in una camera in segreto, & per parte del Nostro Signore el confortai, 
e salutai, & cosi da parte del Sig. Conte Jeronimo e dell’ Arcivescovo, 
de’ quali Conte & Arcivescovo io avevo una lettera credenzial per uno : 
le appresentai; le lesse, e lette disse: che avemo noi a dire, Giovam- 
batista? Avemo noi a parlare de Stato? Dissi mandiasi. Mi ris- 
puose, io non ti voglio intendere per niente perche costoro si vanno 
rompendo il cervello, & voglion deventare Signori de Fiorenza, & io 
intendo meglio queste cose nostre de loro: non me ne parlate per 
niente, che non ne voglio ascoltare. E persuadendolo io pure all’ as- 
coltarme, se contento d’ intendermi. Que vuoi tu dire ? Io vi conforto 
da parte di Nostro Signore, con el quale prim a che io partissi, gli par- 
lai, & presente el Conte e 1’ Arcivescovo me disse Sua Santita, che io 
vi confortasse a spedire questa causa de Firenza, perche lui non sa in 
que tempo possa accadere un altro assedio de Montone da tenere sos- 
pese & insieme tante gente d’ arme e cosi appresso al vostro terreno ; 
& essendo pericoloso Io indusiare, ve conforta a far questo. Madias! 


APPENDIX, XVIII. 


487 


die Sua Santitk dice, che vorria seguisse la mutazione dello Stato, ma 
senza morte de persona. E dicendoli io, presente el Conte e 1* Arci¬ 
vescovo, Padre Santo queste cose se potranno forse mal fare senza 
morte di Lorenzo e di Giuliano, e forse delli altri; Sua Santita mi 
disse : io non voglio la morte di niuno per niente, perche non e offizio 
nostro acconsentire alia morte di persona; e benche Lorenzo sia un 
villano, & con noi si porte male, pure io non vorria la morte sua per 
niente, ma la mutazione dello Stato si. Et el Conte respuose; se fark 
quanto se podera, accio non intervenga; pure quando intervenisse, la 
Vostra Santitk perdonera bene a cbi ’1 fesse. El Papa respuose al 
Conte : tu sii una bestia. Io te dico : non voglio la morte de niuno, 
ma la mutazione dello Stato si. E cosi ti dico, Giovambatista, che io 
desidero assai, che lo Stato di Fiorenza se mute & che se leve delle 
mani de Lorenzo, che elli e un villano, & un cattivo uomo, & non fa 
stima de noe, e tuttavolta che de’ fosse fuor de Fiorenza lui, farissimo 
de quella Repubblica quello vorressimo, & saria ad un gran preposito 
nostro. E ’1 Conte e 1* Arcivescovo, che erano presenti, dissero: la 
Santita Vostra dice il vero ; che quando aviate Fiorenza in vostro ar- 
bitrio, & posserne desponere, come porrete, si sera in mano de costoro, 
la Santita Vostra mettera legge a mezza Italia, & omne una avera caro 
esserve amico; sicche siate contento si faccia ogni cosa per venire a 
questo elfetto. Sua Santita disse; io ti dico che non voglio. Andate 
e fate quello volete voi, purche non v’ intervenga morte. Et con questo 
ci levassimo dinanzi da Sua Santita facendo poi conclusione essere 
contento dare omne favore & ajuto de gente d’ arme, o d’ altro, che 
accio fosse necessario. L’ Arcivescovo rispuose & disse ; Padre Santo, 
siate contento, che guidiamo noi questa harca, che la guideremo bene. 
Et Nostro Signore disse; io son contento. E con questo ci levassimo 
da’ suoi piedi, e reducessemonce in camera del Conte, dove fo poi dis- 
cussa la cosa particolarmente, e concluso che questa cosa non se poteva 
fare per niun modo senza la morte de’ costoro, cioe del Magnifico 
Lorenzo e del fratello. Et dicendo io essere mal fatto, mi rispuosero, 
che le cose grandi non si possevano fare altramente ; & sopra de cio fo 
dato molti esempli, che seria lungo a scriverli; & finaliter fo concluso, 
che per intendere e modo, bisognava essere qui &parlar con Francesco 
& Messer Jacomo, e intendere appunto quello era da fare, & intesolo 
mandare ad effetto. Io foi qui, e non trovando Francesco, non volsi 
fare altra conclusione; se non che mi disse: vattene a Imola, e alia 
tornata tua sara qui Francesco, & delibererasse tutto quello sara da fare. 
Io me ne andai a Imola, dove stetti pochi giorni, perche cosi aveva io 
in commissione per la espedizione di detta causa, e in nel tomare e 
dietro foi a Cafaggiolo, dove trovai la Magnificenza di Lorenzo e de 
Giuliano, e avendo referte al detto Magnifico Lorenzo come aveva trovate 
le cose del Conte, me consiglio con le pih cordiali & amorevoli parole 
del mondo, dicendome che per il Signor Conte aveva deliberato fare 
ogne cosa per farli intendere che gli voleva essere buono amico; & 
avendo Sua Magnificenzia deliberato tomare a Fiorenza, ce ne venissimo 
di compagnia, dove per la via mi fe intendere ancora pifi chiaramente 
quanto era el suo buon animo verso del Conte, che lo tacero, perche 


488 


APPENDIX, XVIII. 


seria longo lo scrivere. Arrival in Fiorenza, e fui con Francesco, con 
il quale presi ordine di non partire quel di, accioche la notte ce retro- 
vassimo con Messer Jacomo ; & cosi fo fatto. La notte ditto Francesco 
venne per me, & condusseme in camera de M. Jacomo, dove fo parlato 
assai di questa cosa, & la conclusione fo questa, che per la espedizione 
bisognava pih cose; una che V Arcivescovo fosse de qua, & che vedesse 
venirci con qualche scusa licita in modo non desse suspetto, & a questo 
lassava pensarlo al Conte, e a lui, & che alia sua venuta si piglieria poi 
forma de quello s’ avesse a fare, e che si fosse cifre, per le quali si patesse 
scrivere bene, & che non dubitava, avendo el favore delle genti del 
Papa ec. che la cosa non venissi fatta, ma che per farla netta, bisognava, 
che detti doi fratelli fossero fora, & che immediate, che la cosa avesse 
questo, di certo la spacciariamo, & che tra Y Magnifico Lorenzo e ’1 
Signor di Piombino si trattava parentado per Giuliano, e seguendo, 
saria necessario uno de loro andasse la, el quale andava; la cosa era 
spacciata, ma essendo totti dua in la citta, per niente non voleva fare, 
perche non gli pareva posser riuscirlo ; & Francesco diceva altramente, 
che ad omne modo si faria, & sempre gli ando per la mente in Chiesa, 
o a giuoco di carte o a nozze, purche fossino tutti dua in un luogo, gli 
basteria 1* animo di farlo, & che non ci voleva se non pochi con seco, 
& recercommene a me, che io volessi quello, che mai el volsi fare. Lui 
disse trovaria bene il modo a far questo, & che se desse pur pifi tempo 
che se poteva, e mandassesi Y Arcivescovo in qua, che a tutto se daria 
bene espedizione, & che de tutto quello s’ avesse a fare, si avviseria. 
Intesa la conclusione, me n’ andai a Roma, e referii el tutto al Conte & 
all’ Arcivescovo, & subito fu presa per il Conte deliberazione de mandare 
1’ Arcivescovo sotto colore delle cose di Favenza &c. & a me ordino 
che me n’ andassi a lmola con cento provisional, & con quelle poche 
genti d’ arme, che gli erono state preparate ad omne requisizione de cos- 
toro, & etiam con i suoi popoli, &c. Io me partii & andamene a lmola, 
& poi a Montugi; e fui una notte con Messer Jacomo e con Francesco, 
e fegli intendere 1’ ordine dato da ogni banda, e che questa cosa bisog¬ 
nava espedizione, & da parte, &c. del Conte gli sollicitai assai a detta 
espedizione prima che il campo si dividesse loro; me rispuosero, che 
non bisognava sproni, ma morso, & che ad omne modo vederia espe- 
dirlo in questo tempo, & che io stesse preparato, che sperava avvisarne 
presto quello avessi a fare, e che al suo avviso non preterisse niente ; 
& io dissi di farlo, e con questo me ne andai, & non trovando costoro 
comodita di farlo in quel tempo per essere la persona del Conte Carlo 
qui, e alloggiato in casa de’ Martelli, deliberorno lassarlo stare per fine 
a tempo nuovo, & avviso, che si devidesse il campo, & cosi fo fatto, ne 
di questa cosa fo parlato pih per un pezzo, &c. Et essendo stato a 
lmola per la recuperazione di Valdiseno, & essendo si recuperato, me 
n’ andai a Roma questo Marzo, dove trovai la Signoria del Conte, e 
Giovanfrancesco da Tolentino, e Messer Lorenzo da Castello e Francesco 
de’ Pazzi, &c. fra i quali molte volte si parlava de queste cose, & che se 
cominciava adesso approssimar il tempo d’ espedir detta causa; & do- 
mandando io que modo era questo, me disse: Lorenzo deve venire qui 
per questa Pasqua, & quamprimum se senta la sua partita, Francesco 


APPENDIX, XVIII. 


489 


se partira ancora lui, & andera a spedirsi; & farse il servizio a quello 
remanera, & all’ altro, innanzi che torni, se pensera quello si doverrSi 
fare di lui, et terrassi con esso tal modo, che la cosa sara bene assettata 
innanzi die se parta da noi. Io gli dissi: Faretelo morire ? Mi ris- 
puose : madiano, che questo non voglio per niente, che qui abbia alcuno 
dispiacere : ma innanzi che parta, le cose saranno bene assettate in forma, 
che staranno bene. Domandai il Conte: Nostro Signore sa questo ? 
Me disse : madiasi, Dico ; Diavolo, egli & gran fatto che ’1 consenta! 
Merespuose : non sai tu, che ’1 fammo fare quello volemo noi? Basta 
che le cose anderanno bene. Et stettesi in queste trame parecchi di 
del suo venire, o no. Dappoi veduto che non veniva, deliberarono ad 
ogni modo cavarne le mani prima che fosse fora Maggio, &c. Et como 
ho detto di questo piu e pih volte ne fo parlato in camera del Conte, & 
como mancava materia, se tornava su questo, e chi prima si trovava 
insieme con loro, ne parlava, dicendo, che per niente la cosa podeva 
durare cosi, che non venissi a palese, e questo per essere in tante lingue, 
& che ad ogni modo bisognava darli spedizione, onde che per detta 
casione fu preso per partito, che Francesco se ne venisse qui; e Gio- 
vanfrancesco da Tolentino & io ce ne andassimo a Imola, & Messer 
Lorenzo da Castello, &c. per dare ordene quello s’avesse da fare, e poi 
se ne tornasse a Castello, & omne uno con le preparazioni fatte stesse 
apparecchiato a tutto quello, che da Messer Jacomo, l’Arcivescovo e 
Francesco fosse ordinato et che ad omne sua requesta onneuno fosse 
presto a far quanto per loro saria comandato. Et quest’ ordene ce fu 
dato tutto per el Signor Conte in Roma. 

Da poi venne ultimamente il Yescovo de Lion, el quale ce comando 
de nuovo, che ad omne requisizion de sopradetti fussemo apparecchiati 
sanza fare una difficolta al mondo ; & cosi s’ e fatto, ne mai se ’ntese 
niuno loro ordene, se non lo Sabato a doi ore di notte, e poi la Dome- 
nica mutorno ancora proposito; & in questa forma sono state governate 
queste cose diciendo impero sempre, che 1’ onor de Nostro Signore e 
del Conte ci fosse raccomandato. Et con questo ordene la Domenica 
mattina a di 26 d’Aprile, 14/8, si fece in Santa Liberata quanto e 
pubblico a tutto el mondo. 

Item che tornando di Romagna, & andando a Roma, quando fu la, 
&parlando con Nostro Signore d’ altre cose me disse: poiGiovambatista 
dell’ Arcivescovo & de Francesco, che diceva voler far tante cose, e non 
savessero mutare uno Stato come quello de Fiorenza; ma non credo 
s’avessp pure accozzare tre ove in un bacile, se non con cianciatori; 
tristi che s’empaccia con loro. 

Item che ’1 Signor Conte mi ha ditto molte volte, che Nostro Signore 
ha cosi gran desiderio della mutazione di questo Stato come noi, & 
se tu intendesse quello dice, quando semo lui e mi, diresti quello che 
dico io. 

Io Giovan Batista da Montesicco confesso e fo fede essere vere tutte 
le predette cose scritte in un foglio intero & in un altro mezzo, e qui di 
sopra, e quanto io ho scritto avere detto a Messer Jacomo qui in 
Fiorenza della mente & volunta della Santita del Papa, & queste cose 
sono verissime, & io mi trovai presente, quando la Sua Santita lo disse, 
& tutto questo e scritto, e di mia mano propria. 


490 


APPENDIX, XVIII. 


Io Matteo Tuscano da Milano Cavaliero e presentemente Podesta 
della Magnifica Citta di Fiorenza sono stato presente insema colli Reve- 
rendi Patri infrascritti ( ut infra) che ’1 prefato Joanne Baptista ha 
detto, che quanto e scritto sopra in un foglio intero, e in un altero 
mezzo, e in questo, che tutti s’ allegheranno inseme, sono ne sua pro¬ 
pria mano, & confesso essere vero quanto de sopra b scritto, & cosi ne 
fazzo fede de mia propria mano, che gli e la propria verita quanto in 
esse scritto se contene: a di 4 diMaggio, 14/8, in Fiorenza. ( Omittimus 
alias aliorum subscrip tiones.) 

Noti jam sunt Conjuratores, atque eorum omnia consilia ex ipsis 
conjuratis. Nos modo quid inde secutum sit, brevi perstringemus. 
Dum dies advenisset Aprilis vigesimus sextus, qui destinatus erat faci- 
nori, in Liberatae Templum conjurati tectis gladiis convenerunt, horam 
caedi constitutam expectantes. Convenerat eodem & frequentissimus 
populus ad sacrorum apparatiora spectacula. Raphael enim Cardinalis 
ex nepte natus Sixti Pontificis sacris solemnioribus praesidebat, accipi- 
endus convivio a Laurentio Julianoque Medicibus post peracta sacra, 
quod proditores de industria curaverant, ut eos, si in Templo perfici res 
non posset, domi inter epulandum obtruncarent. Aderant igitur in 
primis Laurentius Julianusque fratres, ut Cardinalem & convivas domum 
reducerent. Conjurati autem ad fractionem Eucharistiae (id enim 
datum signum erat), strictis gladiis Julianum confodiunt ante aras, 
caeduntque : atque eodem tempore altera manus, ut diversa spatia cir- 
cum Altare faciebat, Laurentium adoritur, & sub aurem dextram in 
collo vulnerat. Deus, suo clementissimo beneficio, ex tarn diro infor- 
tunio salvum reddidit. Ipse quoque suae saluti fortiter est opitulatus, 
& gladiolo, quern ex consuetudine Florentinae juventutis ad orna- 
tum gerebat, stricto, dantibus viam proditoribus, in Sacrarium con- 
fugit. 

Eodem tempore, quo id negotii susceperat Franciscus Salviatus 
Archiepiscopus Pisanus, cum ad id delectis armatis satellitibus Palatium 
occupat Status nostri & Florentinae Libertatis domicilium: Magistratus 
cum circumveniri se improvisum sensisset, in deambulacra conscendit, 
& illic aditibus clausis se tutatur; atque inde Jacobum Pazium Equitem 
Florentinum immanissimum patricidam cum globo armatorum accur- 
rentem & ferentem conjuratis auxilium, lapidibus ex deambulatris mag- 
nis jactibus deturbat, arcetque Palatio. Habet in summo aedificii 
Palatium duas quasi porticus, tectam alteram, sine tegumento alte¬ 
ram, in modum duplicis coronae ad deambulandi usum fabricatas, 
unde & deambulacri nomen est. Ea non modo ornatius faciunt 
Palatium, & commoditatem deambulandi & sub tecto & sub dio 
praebent, sed belligerandi & arcendi, unde unde veniat invasorem, 
pulcherrime faciunt facultatem. Dum igitur Magistratus liinc repug- 
nat. atque insectatur lapidibus parricidas, populus, caede cognita civium 
suo rum, & Laurentii vulnere, & vim inferri Magistratui, percitus 
furore incredibili & dolore arma capit, in Curiam, ut Magistratui suc- 
currerent, convolarunt. Principes quoque civitatis, atque optimates 
cuncti idem factitant. Ad aedes Mediceas sugendo vulneri ob veneni 
suspicionem amici dant operam. Ad Palatium ad effringendum trabali- 
bus crebris ictibus atque igni appositis accensis facibus fores acerrimis 


APPENDIX, XVIII. 


491 


insudatur studiis. Vix integram horam occupatores substinuerunt impe- 
tum. Yicti ergo, partim primo impetu caesi, partim vivi capti & conjecti 
in vincula, post quaestiones breves perierunt. Johannes Baptista de Mon- 
tesicco erutus tandem e latebris, per quas paucos dies difihgerat, quae su¬ 
pra sunt posita, cum sua manu perscripsisset, & se ita scripsisse, & vera 
esse quae scripsisset, pluribus clarorum virorum attestationibus corrobo- 
ratum, ut fieri ipse voluit, vidisset, quamquam in suprascripta confessione 
ejus quaedambonisdecaussis subtracta sint, &ea tantum apposita, quae ad 
Sixtum Pontificem, atque Ecclesiae Gubernatores pertinent, capitis est 
damnatus. Sic Cives Civitasque, & Libertas, proditorum manus effu- 
gerunt. Nam & Johannes Franciscus Tolentinas, qui Imola absens, 
cum expeditis Sixti Papae militibus, jussus ad destinatum caedi diem 
ferre conjuratis auxilium, quique jam in Mugellanum agrum descende- 
rat, re cognita, unde abierat, revertitur. Idem facit & Laurentius 
Tiphernas, qui alia parte eadem de caussa a Civitate Castelli movens, & 
per agrum discurrens nostrum ad Senenses fines accurrerat. Raphael 
Cardinalis, quern praeesse sacris supra diximus, sic procurantibus plu¬ 
ribus civibus & Laurentio Medice imprimis, qui in tanto periculo suo, 
in tot tantisque negotiis & tumultibus, atque omni confusione rerum, 
hujus quoque officii non est oblitus, in Palatium perductus, vix furen- 
tes populi manus evasit. Moverat scilicet Laurentium Cardinalatus, 
dignitas & Sanctae Romanae Ecclesiae reverentia, ut eum intactum in- 
violatumque curaret; ubi cum paucos dies publicis sumptibus honori- 
ficentissime fuisset, quoad populi furor elanguesceret & fieret remissior, 
Romam abiit incolumis. Quae tamen vel in primis praetenditur caussa, 
cur interdicamur sacris, & communio fidelium separemur? Ita de bono 
opere lapidamur, & ubi gratias reportasse oportuit, immeritissime dam- 
namur. Tandem quod foeda proditione non successit, tentatur Eccle- 
siasticis censuris atque armis. Bellum infertur a Sixto Pontifice Max¬ 
imo & praeclaris illis, quos gubernationi Status Ecclesiae proposuit, non 
aliam ob caussam, nisi quod trucidari nos non sivimus ; nam id quoque 
accusat in interdictis, & de proditoribus, atque Archiepiscopo Pisano 
sumptum esse supplicium moleste fert; quae altera caussa est inter- 
dicti & censurarum. Quamvis quam juste, quam pie, quam religiose, 
& Pontificaliter factum sit, plurium est doctissimorum Jurisconsultorum 
& Collegiorum declaratum, testimonio, & publicis eorum scriptis in 
aperto positum, & quod Palatium, Statumque & Libertatem nostram, 
quae vita quoque est carior, defendimus. Sic Pontificis Christianorum 
maximus exercitus in populum religiosissimum, & illius Pontificalis 
fastigii semper observantissimum, infestissimus insurgit, jamque agrum 
vastat, Castella diripit atque incendit; foeminas, maresque & sacra & 
profana loca militari licentiae & libidini elargitur. Deus bone, quam- 
diu tantam iniquitatem sustinebis ? Quando laborantis gregis tui mi- 
sereberis, & confirmabis populum tuum ? Ad te quoque, ad t.e confu- 
gimus, Federice Serenissime Imperator semper-Auguste. Memineris 
rogamus fidelissimae urbis tuae Florentiae & populi hujus isti Sacra- 
tissimae Majestati Imperatoriae semper devotissimi. In nobis, ni falli- 
mur, caussa agitur publica Christianse Religionis, quae dum Sixtus 
suis bellum infert, versatur in periculo manifestissimo victoriosissimis 


492 


APPENDIX, XIX. 


& potentissimis hostibus in limine Italiae ita insultantibus. Tua est in 
primis rerum omnium Christianarum cura. Tu quoque, Ludovice 
Francorum invictissime Rex & Christianissime, virtutem ut excites tuam 
admodum necesse est, & succurras rebus Christianis pericli tan tibus. 
Idem nisi caeteri quoque Principes & Populi Christiani fecerint, mul- 
tum de salute Christianarum rerum aubitare cogimur. Agite igitur, 
agite omnes, expergiscimini jam, & capessite rem communem ; & cum 
Christo Optimo Maximo Redemptore & Salvatore nostro qui caussam 
suam profecto non deseret, in commune consulite. Ex Florentia, dio 
X. Mensis Augusti, mcccclxxviii. 

Bartholomaeus Scala Cancel. Florentinus. 


No. XIX. p.135. 

Phileljphus Laurentio Medici Florentiae. 

Magnifice clarissimeque vir tanquam frater honorande. Quanto sia 
stato el dispiacere ho ricevuto del vostro acerbissimo caso per due altre 
mie lettere lo havete potuto comprendere. Delle cose passate & inre- 
cuperabili bisogna haver patientia, e ben prowedere per lo advenire, il 
che, come prudentissimo che voi siete, sono certo el dovete fare, al 
che sommamente ve conforto & priego. 

Harei carissimo essere advisato del fundamento & processo de tanto 
tradimento, & a cui petitione & a che fine se faceva, acciocche una 
perpetua memoria per me scripta fusse, avisandove che a niuno la 
sparmiero & sia chi si vuole. 

In quanto a Yostra Magnificentia paresse, io harei caro essere re- 
bandito: potreste tenere quella via voile tenere il vostro Magnifico 
avolo Cosmo, il quale, come me significo per Messer Angelo Acciajolo & 
per Messer Nicodemo Tranchedino, per non aprire la via alii altri rubelli 
ordeno, chel Duca Francesco scrivesse una lettera a cotesta Illustr. 
Comunitate, demandando de gratia che io fosse rebandito, & cosi a 
contemplatione de quello io come forestiere fusse messo a partito. Ma 
il prefato Signore per tema de perderme entorbido el tucto. De questo 
fatene quello a voi pare. Ben ve aviso, che io ve sarei utile in Firenze 
quanto pochi amici voi habiate. Io ve ho dedicato el corpo e 1’ anima. 

Farebbe molto per Yostra Magnificentia havere in Milano Aciarito, 
il quale e amato, & e di grande reputatione in Corte e tra tutti i 
Milanesi, e lui solo ha la pratica e Y usanza. Yale, ex Mediolano, 
20 Maii, 1478. 




APPENDIX, XXI. 


493 


No. XX. p. 144. 

Bartholoma:us Scala Laurentio Medici salutem dicit. Succenseo 
tibi ad longa tempora, mi Laurenti, meum columen, idest donee redieris. 
Quid enim potest esse longius ? Non possum vero non admirari istam 
fortitudinem animi tui atque constantiam. Reviviscit in te ilia antiqua 
virtus & magnitudo animi, quae quanto magis nova est, magisque 
aliena ab his modis & consuetudine vitae, tanto est admirabilior tan- 
toque ornatior. De me fatebor id quod est. Non possum esse fortis, 
nec solum non admirari istam deliberationem tuam, sed etiam non 
valde timere. Sum vero aliquot dies exanimatus metu, & vix apud me 
sum: si collegero animum, poteris habere saniores litteras. Decemviri 
collegae tui oratorem te post discessum tuum ad Neapolitanum Regem 
statuerunt. Idem novi quoque Decemviri decreverunt. Putabam autem 
posse id fieri a Centumviris honoratius, sed quibusdam amicis id atten- 
tare non est visum: in quorum ego sententiam facile concessi, quod in 
tanta suspensione animorum atque expectatione rerum quid melius 
factu sit, non est facile cognoscere. 

Calles nostros mores. Qui novas res cupiunt, si qui sunt, qui his 
minime contend sint, oblatam occasionem confundendarum rerum uvide 
accipiunt. 

Rogavi ergo & scripsi Decemvirorum mandatum, quam potui, ele- 
gantius : &ut esse magis credidi in rem communem & tuam, si separari 
tua a nostra, idest a publica potest, ut ego non posse certo scio, & sum 
aperte saepe testificatus. Si tu adfuisses, non ita in condenda labo- 
rassem. 

Cui vero mirum est si sine meo sole obcaecatus .... sine duce vager, 
& sine mea Arcto etiam naufragem. Si scire quid expectas a me de 
rebus nostris, animum in pacem intenderunt, & fieri earn per te posse 
honoratam & dignam civitate putant: ab omni nota, quae vel quid 
minimum obscurare antiquam Florentinae gentis gloriam queat, pluri- 
mum abhorrent. Si tu earn nobis confeceris e sententia, redibis totus 
aureus, beabisque nos. Magna spes est in tua prudentia & auctoritate. 

Regis quoque mente non ex praesenti rerum conditione pensant, sed 
paullo altius res ab eo gestas & paterna in nos studia meritaque re- 
censent. 

Quid multa dixerim ? Linguis atque animis huic fortissimo incoepto 
tuo plerique favemus. Me tibi plurimum commendo. Vale. Ex Flo- 
rentia, die V. Dec. 1479. 


No. XXI. pp. 145,147. 

Ferdinandus Rex Siciliae Laurentio Medici. 

Magnifico Lorenzo heri alle 20. hore hebbemo per cavallaro aposta 
lettera del Magnifico Messer Lorenzo de Castello Oratore della Santitk 



494 


APPENDIX, XXI. 


de Nostro Signore, quale ye mandamo intro la presente; & videndo 
quello ne scrivea, como ancora vui vederite, ne parse per non disturbare 
tanto bene quanto delle conelusione, delle cose agitate se spera, scriver 
a quisti nostri supra fedessero fin ad altro nostro mandato: & poco 
spacio da poi venne ipso Messere Lorenzo, & licet per lettera de Mes- 
sere Anello havessemo visto quanto de bona volunta la Santita de Nostro 
Signore era condescesa a tutte quelle conditione della pace, che ultima- 
mente erano state mandate de volunta vostra & de’ quisti Magnifici 
Oratori Ducali, tamen dicto Messer Lorenzo lo have dicto con tanta 
majore efficacia, quanto piu lo have inteso per altre lettere have havute 
cosi dalla dicta Santita como dal Conte Hieronimo. Et perche lo 
possate vedere, ve mandamo con la presente copia de quanto Messer 
Anello ne ha scripto. Benche heri la donassemo al vostro Ser Nicolo, 
& credimo ve la habbia mandata. Da po venne el cavallaro con le 
lettere de Messere Princevallo, per le quale intesimo la ragione e ca- 
gione, per le quale a vui non parea dever retornar secondo Messer Lo¬ 
renzo havea scripto & mandato dicendo. El che inteso per ipso Messer 
Lorenzo, se ne e mostrato mal contento dicendo, che havendo la Santita 
de Nostro Signore acceptato tutto quello per nui li e stato scripto per 
grandissimo desiderio e volunta, che have de questa pace, dubita grande- 
mente, che non retornando vui, e dilatandose questa conelusione per 
qualsevoglia respecto, porranno facilmente seguir inconvenienti, che 
non solamente serranno causa de disturbar questa pace, ma de far mal- 
contenti tutti quelli la desiderano. Et respondendoseli, che la partuta 
vostra era stata non voluntaria, ma necessaria per le cose de Fiorenza 
star in grandissimo periculo de trabuccar a camino contrario a quello 
desidera la Santita de Nostro Signore; & nui resposse, che conside- 
rato el tempo non era disposto a navigare, & considerato a Fiorenza 
omne homo avera la inteso vui esserve partuto, & che el tempo 
contrario ve ha impedito, & che tra quisto mezzo essendo supra ve- 
nuta da Nostro Signore la resposta con la conelusione, quale per tucti 
se desiderava, site retornato, acciocch& alia conelusione della pace 
non se havesse de dar dilatione: & circa questo ve porrissivo allargar 
quanto ve paresse, & etiam porrissivo scrivere alii amici vostri che bi- 
sognando per qualsevoglia respecto per tener le cose della Comu- 
nita vostra quiete, se poteno ajutare delle gente de Nostro Sig¬ 
nore e nostre. Non solamente quella Comunita & li amici vostri non 
haveranno dispiacere della vostra retornata qua, ma ne pigliaranno 
grandissimo conforto e consolatione praesertim che vui ancora li pos- 
site scrivere, che la conelusione se farra de continente, & al piil tardo 
alia resposta, che venera da Milano, che ne sera tra secte di, & che etiam 
se li po scriver, che immediate chel tempo serra disposto, vui continu- 
arete vostro camino, concludendo che quando vui non retornassivo, lui 
se parteria immediate, & serra in tucto exclusa questa pratica; el quale ra- 
gionamento ne piacque grandemente, & simo certi non meno piacera a 
vui. Et parendone le ragione de Messer Lorenzo bone & efficace, & 
pensando, che della vostra tornata qua son per seguire infiniti beneficii 
senza alcuno vostro sconcio, & del contrario infiniti mali, ve pregamo 
quanto ne e possible vogliate omnino disponerve e per terra o per mare. 


APPENDIX, XXL 


495 


como piil ve piacera a tornare, acciocchk ultra li altri beneficii son per 
seguire a vui & a tucti per la conclusione de questa pace e lega, quale 
indubitatamente se concluded vui retornando, se possa air vui esserne 
causa, che non solamente li misi passati per fare quello effecto venissivo 
qua con tanta liberalita, non perdonando a pericoli della persona n& 
dello stato, ma da poi con non minor volunta e promptezza siate retor- 
nato, & quisto acto a judicio nostro & de tal natura, che credimo lo 
animo della Santita de Nostro Signore ne restara tanto placato & satis- 
facta, che con alcuna altra cosa non lo porrissivo piu satisfare ; demos- 
trarasse la grandissima sincerita & optima volunta vostra alia pace, & 
alia obedientia de Nostro Signore, disturbarite le pratiche de qualunca 
ha travagliato e travaglia alienar Nostro Signor da queste conclusione, 
che questa vostra retornata cancellera in tucto queste persuasione & 
suspecti, & asserenera lo animo de Nostro Signore non solum verso nui 
& vui, ma ancora verso quilli Illustrissimi Signori de Milano, adeo, che 
simo certi nulla cosa, che a proposito vostro sia & vui desiderate, ne 
porrk essere denegata; avisandove, che non simo fora de speranza, tor- 
nandovui, questi Magnifici Ambasciadori Ducali non debiano differirlasti- 
pulatione delli contracti, perchk alloro non e prohibito la stipulatione ma 
solamente li e comandato, che non concludendose la pace tra otto di & poi 
tra quattro altri se debiano partire, & se cosa alcuna li ha de indurre a 
stipulare de continente serra la presentia vostra per lo beneficio certo, che 
de quella conclusione se vede have de seguire a tutti questi stati: & 
non dubitamo con ragione se mostrara loro possono & devono far 
questa conclusione. Ma la piu viva ragione serra la presentia & lo con- 
forto vostro ; & praesertim perch&, statim fatta la conclusione, possate 
partire & tornare a Fiorenza con tanta gloria e stabilita delle cose di 
quella Excelsa Repubblica. A nui pare soverchio scrivere altre ragione 
& cause per persuaderve la vostra retornata, che essendo vui de tanta 
prudentia & intellecto, ne intendite multo piu che nui. Solamente ve 
dirimo, che in satisfactione de quanto havessemo possuto, o porrimo 
fare tucta nostra vita in vostro beneficio, vogliate retornare per fare 
questa conclusione, la quale a judicio nostro importa tanto alii comuni 
stati, che non dubitamo, per fuggire li contrarj effecti, che possono se¬ 
guire del vostro non tornare, se fussivo in Pisa, non che a Cajeta retor- 
narissivo, & ve pregamo non vogliate mostrare de farla si non allegra- 
mente como certamente possite e devite, ancorche ultra lo effecto de 
tanto bene e per seguire de la vostro retornata, la Santita de Nostro 
Signore habia de intendere lo havite facto con jocondissimo animo. 
Datum in Castello novo Neap. 1 Martii, 1480. 



496 


APPENDIX, XXII. 


No. XXII. P. 157. 

Rime del Burchiello. 

Da testo a penna del sec. xv. 

Di tutto el centro che la Europia eigne, 

Italia n’ & Reina incoronata, 

Secundo die pe’ savi si distingue; 

II frutto clie la ciba, et tiene ornata, 

E la porpora vesta di Toscana, 

Di fior’d’ alisi, et gigli seminata : 

Lo speccbio in che costei si mira, e vana, 

Si e Fiorenza terra sopra marte, 

Che strigne ogni terrena etsi lontana. 

Perche eglik guida, et fuor di molte parte 
Si manda per rifar lo studio athene, 

Molta sua imbasceria, con libri, et carte; 

0 quanta nobil gente si mantiene 
In questa vaga et bella imbasceria. 

Con poco senno le lor menti piene. 

Se ti piacessi lettor, pregheria 

Cho ti agustassi d’ esta gente el nome, 

Se vuoi avere alquanta giulleria, &c. 

* * * 

Maestro mio se a dirmi non se’ lasso, 
lo te priegho per dio che ancor mi dica, 

E nomi di questi altri apasso apasso. 

Et egli a me : e’ non mi fia faticha, 

Et presto ti faro da loro contento, 

Villano e quello ch’ a te nulla disdicha. 

Rivoglanci diss’ egli al nostro armento, 

Et mostrerotti uno nuovo pesce medicho, 
Grande di carne, e di poco sentimento ; 

Ne altrimente a chi teme il solleticho, 

Chi lo tocha per motti lo fa ridere, 

Tal fecie a me quel maestro farneticho. 

Com io lo vidi, credetti dividere, 

Le mia mascella, per troppo letitia, 

Tal che Ser Gigi disse, non ti uccidere; 

Et fa di tanto ridere masseritia, 

Che tu vedrai venire dirieto a lui, 

Gente che riderai pih ch’ a divizia 

Se vuoi sapere el nome di costui, 

Maestro Antonio Falcucci egl’ h chiamato, 
Ch’a ogni sole gli paion tempi buoi; 


APPENDIX, XXIII. 


497 


Costui & si perfetto smemorato, 

Che se toccasse el polso al campanile, 
Sonando a’ festa non 1* aria trovato. 

Et non ostante che sia tanto vile, 

Egl’ ha morti pih huomini a suoi giorni, 
Che la spada d’ Orlando signorile. 

Dagli licenza, et di che non ci torni; 

Pero che dove sta vifa moria, 

Con suoi nuovi sciloppi, et masusorni. 

Et io al medico, trovate la via. 

Quanto piu tosto meglio siate atene, 

Et fate a noi di voi gran carestia. 

Quale colui che dal capo alle reno 

Porta gran peso, et lui fa gire in archo, 
Cosl fe quel medico di sene: 

Cosi sen gia di vergogna carco, 

Et noi agli altri a rimirar ci demmo, 

Che ciaspettavan per volere il vaclio, &c. 


No. XXIII. p. 158. 

Da Testo a penna della Libreria Laurenziana. 
Bernardo Pulci a Lor. de' Medici. 

SONETTO. 

Natura per se fa il verso gentile, 

Studio le rime, e ricche le ’nvenzioni; 

Vere scienze solvon le quistioni, 

El dilectarsi poi fa il dolce stile ; 

Amor l’ingegno sempre fa soctile: 

Dote dal Cielo, privilegii, e doni, 

Son questi: benche sien molte cagioni, 

Che fanno un dir superbo, 1* altrui humile. 
Diversi casi fanno il dir diverso ; 

Quando amor, & fortuna, a dir ti strigne, 

E colori temperrai con discretione: 

Chi pensa il vero e poi compone il verso, 
Eterno con la penna si dipigne. 

Che poi morendo ha piu riputatione. 


82 



498 


APPENDIX, XXIV. 


SONETTO. 

Nuova influenza dalle Muse piove, 
Novellamente ed ho cangiato stile, 

Cagion di quel Signor, vagho et gentile, 
Che per Calisto fe transformar Giove. 

Cosi amore d’un esser me rinuove, 

Libero sendo : in acto hora servile, 

Et tant’ e in se crudel, quant’ io humile. 
Colei che favellando i sassi muove. 

Sonetto mio, a Cafaggiuolo andrai, 

Paese bel, che siede nel mugello. 

Dove tu troverai Lorenzo nostro ; 

Et con gran riverenza porgi a quello 
Questi altri tuo consorti; & sol dirai 
Questi presenta a voi Bernardo vostro. 


No. XXIV. p. 163. 

Al Sig. Jacopo Facciolati, a Padova . 

Venezia , 30 Maggio, 1742. 

La Lettera al Principe Federigo d’ Aragona mi ha dato lume, per 
venire in chiaro dell’ essere e del nome del compilatore della vostra 
Raccolta di Rimotori antichi, e del tempo, in cui ella fu fatta. E 
quanto al tempo, si dice quasi nel cominciamento di essa, che trovan- 
dosi Federigo nella Pisana Citta nel passato anno, ed essendo entrato 
col raccoglitore in ragionamento intorno a quegli, che nella volgar 
lingua aveano scritto, mostro d’aver desiderio, che per opera di 
lui tutti quegli Scrittori lo fossero insieme in un medesimo volume 
raccolti. II tempo in cui Federigo ando in Toscana, fu nel 1464, come 
si ha da Scipione Ammirato nell’ Istoria Fiorentina, tom. III. pag. 93, 
ne si trova, che in altro tempo egli facesse quel viaggio. La raccolta 
dunque ne fu fatta 1’ anno seguente, cioe nel 1465. Un anno fu 
impiegato nel farla, e non senza molta fatica, da chi si prese il carico 
di soddisfare alle instanze di quel Signore. Dell’ essere del raccogli¬ 
tore, due indizj mi porge la medesima Lettera : 1’ uno che e’ fosse 
persona di qualita e d’alto rango, poiche 1’ espressioni, con le quali 
tratta con un Principe figliuolo e fratello di Re, e che poscia fu Re 
di Napoli anch’ egli, non converrebbono a persona privata e di bassa 
sfera, ma bensi ad una, cho non conosce superiore, e che parla da 



APPENDIX, XXIV. 


499 


grande e per nascita e per fortuna. L’ altro indizio si b, che questi 
fosse Toscano, poiche parlando quivi dei Rimatori di quella nazione, 
li nomina semplicemente con T aggiunto di nostri, Tutte queste pero 
non sarebbono, se non semplici conghietture, e lontane per farci 
credere, che il raccoglitore fosse stato Lorenzo de ’ Medici il Magnifico y 
il quale era, come si sa, di quell’ alta famiglia e grandezza in Firenze 
sua patria, e cbe nel 1465, era d’ anni 17. o 18. stante 1’ esser lui 
nato nel Gennajo del 1448. Cio die mi ha indotto a dirlo franca- 
mente, qual precedentemente vel dissi, per Lorenzo de’ Medici, si e 
quel tanto cbe si legge nel fine della suddetta sua lettera al Principe 
d’ Aragona. Habbiamo nello ESTREMO del libro (perche cosi ne pare 
te piacesse) aggiunti alcuni delli NOSTRI SONETTI e CANZONE, 
accio che quelli leggendo se rinnovelli nella tua mente la mia fede , e 
amore insieme verso la tua Signoria. Ripigliato adunque per mano il 
vostro bel Codice, ed esaminatelo ben bene verso il fine, ho ritrovato, 
cbe 1’ ultimo componimento con nome di autore era alia pag. 283. 2. 
un Sonetto del Notaro Jacopo da Lentino, Poeta notissimo Siciliano, 
vivutopero dugent’ anni almeno prima dell’ anno 1464. onde conclusi, 
cbe questi non poteva esser 1’ autore d’ una Raccolta, dove stavano 
registrati i nomi, e i componimenti di tanti Poeti vivuti ne’ due 
secob susseguenti. Piacciavi ora dare un’ attenta occbiata alia pag. 
284. e anche alle susseguenti sino alia fine del Codice, e vedrete, che 
le Rime quivi trascritte sono tutte di un anonimo raccoglitore, cbe 
a veruna de esse non ba voluto apporre il suo nome, come nb pur 
P avea apposto alia sua Lettera proemiale; onde alia pag. 285. 2. 
malamente e stato riempiuto un picciol vacuo, con recente inchiostro, 
col nome di Notar Jacomo, il quale sara bene cbe nel facciate radere 
interamente. Dopo cio messomi a leggere i componimenti del pre- 
detto anonimo raccogbtore, venni subito in sospetto, cbe questi esser 
potessero del suddetto Lorenzo ; e pero tolto per mano il volume delle 
sue Poesi volgari y stampate in Vinegia in casa de ’ figliuoli di Aldo y 
nel 1554. in ottavo y vi ritrovai tutti quasi i componimenti, ciob i 
Sonetti e la Canzone, che stanno nel Manoscritto, toltone le cinque 
ultime Ballate, o sia Canzoni a ballo, che saran forse in altro volume 
con quelle del Pobziano e di altri stampate: di cbe non mi son potuto 
accertare, per esserne senza. Dopo cio credo che non vi rimarra 
dubbio alcuno intorno a quanto vi scrissi. Puo essere, cbe io mi 
risolva a dime qualche cosa, se mel permette, in una delle mie Anno- 
tazioni all’ Eloquenza Italiana del fu Monsig. Fontanini, le quali a 
quest’ ora sarebbono terminate, se le mie frequenti e lunghe indispo- 
sizioni non mi avesser costretto a sospenderne il lavoro. Vi bo recato 
un lungo tedio, e pero senz’ altro passo a dirvi, cbe di vero cuore sono 
e saro sempre .... 



500 


APPENDIX, XXV. 


No. XXV. P. 180. 


Rispetti del Politiano. 

0 TRIOFANTE sopra ogni altra bella, 

Gentile, onesta, & gratiosa Dama, 

Ascolta el canto, non che ti favella 
Colui, che sopra ogni altra cosa t’ ama; 
Perche tu sei la sua lncente stella; 

Et giorno, e notte il tuo bel nome chiama, 
Principalmente a salutar ti manda, 

Poi mille volte ti si raccomanda. 

Et priegati umilmente, che tu degni 
Considerar la sua perfetta fede, 

Et che qualche pieta nel tuo cuor regni. 

Come a tanta bellezza si richiede ; 

Egli ha veduto mille, e mille segni 
Della tuo gentilezza, & ogn’ or vede. 

Or non chiede altro el tuo fedel suggetto, 

Se non veder di quei segni P effetto. 

Sa ben, che non e degno, che tu P ami 
Non n’e degno vedere i tuoi belli ochi, 
Massime avendo tu tanti bei dami, 

Che par che ognun solo el tuo bel viso adochi 
Ma perche sa, che onore, & gloria t’ ami, 

E stimi poco altre frasche, o finochi, 

Et lui sempremai cerca farti onore, 

Spera per questo entrarti un di nel core. 

Quel che non si conosce, e non si vede, 

Chi P ami, o chi P aprezi mai non trova, 

E di qui nasce, che tanto suo fede. 

Non sendo conosciuta, non gli giova, 

Che troveria ne belli occhi merzede, 

Se tu facessi di lui qualche pruova; 

Ognun zimbella, ognun guata, e vagheggia, 

I’ sol per fedelta esco di greggia. 

E se potessi un di solo soletto 
Trovarsi teco sanza gelosia, 

Sanza paura, sanza niun sospetto, 

E raccontarti la sua pena ria ; 

Mille, e mille sospiri uscir dal petto, 

E i tuo begli occhi lagrimar faria, 

E se sapessi ben aprire il suo cuore 
Ne crederebbe acquistare el tuo amore. 


APPENDIX, XXV. 


501 


Tu sei de’ tuoi begli anni ora in suol fiore, 

Tu sei nel colmo della tua bellezza, 

Se di donarla non ti fai onore, 

Te la torra per forza la vecchieza, 

Che ’1 tempo vola, e non si arreston F ore, 

E la rosa sfiorita non si apreza, 

Dunque alio amante tuo fanne un presente, 

Chi non fa, quando puo, tardi si pente. 

II tempo fugge, e tu fuggir lo lassi, 

Che non ha el mondo la pih cara cosa, 

E se tu aspetti che ’1 Maggio trapassi. 

Invan cercherai poi di cor la rosa; 

Quel che non si fa presto, mai poi fassi, 

Or che tu puoi, non istar pih pensosa, 

Piglia il tempo che fugge pel ciuffetto, 

Prima che nasca qualche stran sospetto. 

Egli e nello infra due pur troppo stato, 

Et son sa, se si dorme, o se s’ b desto, 

0 segli e sciolto, o segli e pur legato, 

Deh fa un colpo, Dama, e sie pel resto, 

Hai tu piacer di tenerlo impiccato ? 

0 tu l’alfoga, o tu taglia il capresto ; 

Non piu per dio, questa ciriegia abocca; 

O tu stendi omai l’arco, o tu lo scocca. 

Tu lo pasci di frasche, e di parole, 

Di risi, e cenni, e di vesciche, e vento, 

E di, che gli vuoi bene, e che ti duole 
Di non poterlo far, Dama, contento; 

Ogni cosa h possibile a chi vuole, 

Purche ’1 fuoco lavori un poco drento, 

Non pih praticlie, omai faccisi F opra, 

Prima che affatto questo amor si scuopra. 

Ch’ egli ha deliberato, e posto in sodo, 

Se gli dovessi esser cavato il cuore, 

Di cercare ogni via, ogni arte, e modo, 

Per corre i frutti un di di tan to amore; 

Scior gli conviene, o tagliar questo nodo, 

Pur sempre intende salvarti F onore, 

Ma e’ convien, Dama, che an che tu aguzi 
Pervenire ad effetto i tuoi feruzzi. 

E se tu pur restassi per paura 

Di non perder la tua perfetta fama, 

Usa qui Farte, e poi molto ben cura, 

Che ingegno, o che cervello ha quel che t’ ama; 
S’ egli e discrete, non istar piu dura, 

Che pih si scuopre, quanto piu si brama; 

Cerca de’ modi, truova qualche mezo, 

E non tenere troppo il caval rezo. 


502 


APPENDIX, XXV. 


Se tu guardissi a parole di frati, 

Io direi, Dama, che tu fossi sciocca, 

E’ sanno ben riprendere e peccati, 

Ma non si accorda il 1 'esto colla bocca; 

E tutti siam d’ una pece macchiati, 

Io ho cantato pur, zara a chi tocca, 

Poi quel proverbio del Diavolo e vero, 

Che non e come si dipigne nero. 

E non ti die tanta bellezza Iddio, 

Perchb la tenga sempre ascosa in seno, 

Ma perche ne nontenti al parer mio 
El servo tuo di fede, e d’ amor pieno ; 

Ne creder tu, che sia peccato rio. 

Per esser d’altri, uscir un po del freno, 

Che se ne dai a lui quanto e bastanza. 

Non si vuol gittar via, quel che t’ avanza. 
Egli e pur megho, & piu a Dio accetto 
Far qualche bene al povero affamato, 

Che ha presentato nel divin conspetto. 
Cento per un ti fia remunerato ; 

Datti tre volte della man nel petto, 

Et di tua colpa, di questo peccato, 

E non vuol troppo, e basta che raguzoli 
Sotto la mensa tua di que’ minuzoli. 

Et pero, Donna, rompi un tratto il ghiaccio, 
Assaggia anche tu el frutto dell’ amore; 
Quando Y amante tuo ti ara poi in braccio, 
D’ aver tanto indugiato arai dolore ; 

Questi mariti non ne sanno straccio, 

Perche non hanno si infiammato el cuore; 
Cosa desiderata assai pih giova, 

E se nol credi, fanne pur la prova. 

Questo mio ragionare e un Vangelo, 

Io t’ ho contato apertamente tutto; 

So che nelT uovo tu conosci il pelo, 

E sapranne ben trarre el ver construtto ; 

E s’ io aro punto di favor dal cielo, 

Forse ne nascera qualche buon frutto; 
Fatti con Dio, che ’1 troppo dire offende, 
Chi & savia, e discreta, presto intende. 



APPENDIX, XXVI. 


503 


No. XXVI, P. 197. 


CANZONE A BALLO. 

Di Lor. de Medici. 

Ben venga maggio, 

E’l ganfalon selvaggio. 

Ben venga Primavera, 

Ch’ ognun par che innamori; 
E voi donzelle a schiera 
Con li vostri amadori, 

Con di rose, e di fiori 
Vi fate belle il maggio. 

Venite alia frescura 
Delli verdi arbuscelli: 

Ogni bella e sicura 
Fra tanti damigelli; 

Che le here, e gl’ uccelli 
Ardon d’amor il maggio. 

Che h giovane, e bella. 

Deb non sie punto acerba 
Che non si rinnovella 
L’ eta come fa 1’ herba. 
Nessuna stia superba, 

All’ am adore il maggio. 
Ciascuna balli e canti 
Di questa schiera nostra : 
Ecco e dodici amanti, 

Che per voi vanno in giostra 
Qual dura allor si mostra 
Fara sfiorire il maggio. 

Per prender le donzelle 
Si son gl’amanti armati; 
Arrendetevi belle 
A’ vostri innamorati; 

Rendete e cuor furati, 

Non fate guerra il maggio. 
Chi 1’ altrui cuore invola 
Ad altri doni el core : 

Ma chi e, quel che vola ? 

E’ P Angiolel d’amore, 

Che viene a fare honore 
Con voi donzelle al maggio. 


504 


APPENDIX, XXVI. 


Amor ne vien ridendo 
Con rose, e gigli in testa : 
E vien di voi caendo, 
Fategli o belle festa: 

Qual sara la piu presta 
A dargli el fior del maggio. 
Ben venga il peregrino. 

Amor ehe ne comandi ? 

Che al suo amante il crino 
Ogni bella ingrillandi; 

Che le zitelle, e grandi; 

S’ innamoran di maggio. 



Fxara fh.e title of Cauzoni a Ballo. 










































APPENDIX, XXVIII. 


505 


No. XXVII. P. 219. 


Laur. de Med . ad Albinum. 

Havete intesa 1* offerta mi e stata fatta di Stato in quel Regno, quando 
non donasse li presidj al Sig. Re, &c. & cosl avete intesa la mia risposta 
. . . Dogliome che lo Sig. Re non habbia quella reputatione aveva altro 
tempo de’ denari & de gente d’ arme, cbe S. M. era stimata lo Jodice 
d’ Italia; adesso cbe sia lo contrario, me ne doglio per la servitu che 
loro bo; pure in nullo caso mancaro a S. M. Dispiacemi fino all’ anima, 
che lo Sig. Duca habbia questo nome di crudele, & falsamente le sia 
imposto; pur Sua Eccellenza tuttavia se forze toglierlo con ogni arte, 
che certo li mettera bon conto. Et cosi se le gabelle se tolerano mal 
volentieri dalli popoli, levele, via, & torne alii soliti pagamenti, cbe vale 
pib havere un carbno con piacere & am ore, cbe diece con dispiacere 
& isdegno, che certamente indurre usanza nova ad ogni popolo pare 
forte. Florentiae, 3 Novemb. 1485. 

Anco ricordamo a S. S. che lo partire de’ mercatanti da Napoli, quali 
dicono per sua causa essere partiti, li da mal nome per ogni loco, alii 
quali se non satisfa el debito, almeno satisfaccia de bone parole, accio 
cbe non se dica quello cbe non e, et quello cbe e; pero Sua Eccellenza 
accarezze ogn’ uuo, come e solita, che li animi delli homini se vincono 
& obbbgano piu presto con bone parole, cbe non severitate & questo 
use con ogni maniera de gente, cbe in fine li mettera bon conto. Cbe 
lo S. Virginio conduca quanti Baroni puote in questo de Roma, perchb 
vole del suo soldarli fin alia summa de 300. homini d’ arme. Une delle 
principali cose che mi pare necessaria e cbe Sua Signoria tenga ben 
contenti tutti i soldati, cbe mai n’ hebbe necessario come hoggi. Ulti- 
mamente S. M. stia de buono animo, che in ogni modo serra victoriosa, 
che prima questa Signoria delibera perdere lo stato suo, cbe detta 
Maesta habia a patire ; del resto me remetto alia vostra relatione. 


XXVIII. P. 224. 

Laurentio de Medici Florentinae. 

Rex Siciliae. 

Magnifico Lorenzo, laudabile cosa e persistere nel consueto bene 
operare, & satisfare alle obligazioni, &, como se dice, par pari reddere; 
ma in vero in le amicitie confirmate, & dove se va con una medesima 
volunta & disegno, ad nostro judicio se recerca non attendere ad quanto 
se debia fare, ma ad quello pih cbe sia possibile farse. In le occur- 



506 


APPENDIX, XXIX. 


rentie di questo inverno ne doleva fino ad 1* anima die ad Sarzana se 
facesse novitk, non per comparire, ma perchb non haveriamo possuto 
comparire justa el desiderio nostro. Turbavane, che eramo eskausti, 
le cose del regno non reassectate le praticke con la Santita de N. S. 
assai turkide, & die kavevamo notitia dell’ apperato Turckesco, como 
de poi se & per tucto inteso; & non de manco al primo adviso & re- 
ckesta circa la novita de Serzanello, satisfecimo, & con volunta & con 
opera circa la gente d’ arme & galere recercate, dolendone imperb cor- 
dialmente, eke alia reckesta non possevamo adjungere quel eke el 
debito nostro officio, & la promta volunta recercava, stando tuttavia con 
attentione, se la fortuna avesse producta alcuna occasione de possere 
alcun tanto pih satisfare ad noi medesimi in queste occurentie della 
Repubblica vostra: de eke liavendo ultimamente da diverse & bone vie 
P armata de’ Turcki kavere ad soprastare per questa stasone & eke dall’ 
altro canto Genuesi armavano ad fine de damnificare le marine nostre, 
per divertere & distrakere le vostre forze dall’ obsidione de Serzana, 
subito senza piu differire, rengratiando N. S. Dio, eke ne kavea offerta 
comodita, deliberammo mandare ad questa impresa otto altre galere, 
bene instructe, & lo robore del nostro stolo, colo havimo facto inten- 
dere al Mag. Misser Bernardo, & eodem tempore insemi con la deli- 
beratione havimo dato ordine ad la escutione, facendo scrivere da 
nostro figliolo D. Federico, el quale ha cura delle cose de mare & ad 
Brindisi, & per le marine de Calabria, eke dicte octo galere subito su¬ 
bito siano de qua, & tengano la via de Serzana ad giongerse con le altre : 
ne se persuada la Y. Mag. che la mente nostra habbia da firmarse qua, 
perche con lo pensero discuteremo se altro per noi fare se potera, & 
al pensero adjungeremo 1’ opera, sequendo lo exemplo della vostra Re¬ 
pubblica, & anco vostro proprio, & kavendo sempre avante li ocelli 
quel eke se facto in nostro adjuto & favore; & quanto in noi sera 
facendo tale opere & deportamenti, che li beneficii ricevuti kabbino ad 
restare bene testificati della buona & grata volunta nostra appresso el 
populo Fiorenza, & appresso la Y. M. Havemo dunque voluto ultra 
quel eke scrivemo ad li Ex. Sigg. & ad Marino fare nota per propria let- 
tera questa nostra deliberatione ad laY. M. la quale se renda certa che 
dalle faculta nostre ad le sue proprie & della sua Repubblica, non se ha 
da fare differentis alcuna, perche de tucte cose nostre volimo, che la com¬ 
modity & lo uso sia non manco de’ Sigg. Fiorentini & de V. M. eke lo 
nostro; & questa intra noi ha da essere institutione & legge perpetua. 
Confortamo la M. V. ad attender bene alia sua valetudine. Dat. in 
Castello Nove Neap. 3 Junii, 1487. 


No. XXIX. p. 235. 

Pietro da Bibbiena a Clarice de ’ Medici a Roma. 

Domina mea. Scrivendovi io in nome di Lorenzo, non me accade 
dire altro alia M. V. se non che da sabato in qua ho scripto pin lerette 




APPENDIX, XXX. 


507 


a quella, & per questa le mando lo inventario del presente del Soldano 
dato a Lorenzo, el quale mandai pero a Piero, ma verra pid adagio. 
Yale. 

Un bel cavallo bajo; animali strani, montoni e pecore di varj colori 
con orecchi lunghi sino alle spalle, & code in terra grosse quasi quanto 
el corpo ; una grande ampolla di balsamo ; 11. corni di zibetto; bongivi, 
& legno aloe quanto puo portare una persona; vasi grandi di porcel- 
lana mai pid veduti simili, ne meglio lavorati; drappi de pid colori per 
pezza; tele bambagine assai, cbe loro chiamano turbanti finissimi; tele 
assai colla salda, che lor chiamano sexe; vasi grandi di confectione, 
mirabolani & giengituo. 


No. XXX. pp. 244, 268, 331. 


Laurentio de Medicis. 

Ang. Politianus. 

Magnifice Patrone. Da Ferrara vi scripsi P ultima. A Padova poi 
trovai alcuni buoni libri, cioe Simplicio sopra el Cielo, Alexandro sopra 
la topica, Giovan Grammatico sopra le Posteriora & gli Elen chi, uno 
David sopra alcune cose de Aristotile, li quali non habbiamo in Firenze. 
Ho trovato anchora uno Scriptore Greco in Padova, & facto el pacto a 
tre quinterni di foglio per ducato. 

Maestro Pier Leone mi mostro e libri suoi, tra li quali trovai un 
M. Manilio astronomo & poeta antiquo, el quale ho recato meco a 
Yinegia, & riscontrolo con uno in forma che io ho comprato. E’ libro, 
che io per me non ne viddi mai pid antiqui. Similiter ha certi quin¬ 
terni di Galieno de dogmate Aristotelis & Hippocratis in Greco, del 
quale ci dara la copia a Padova, che si e facto per frutto. 

In Vinegia ho trovato alcuni libri di Archimede & di Herone mathe- 
matici che ad noi mancano, & uno Phornuto de Deis; e altre cose buone. 
Tan to che Papa Janni ha che scrivere per un pezo. 

La libreria del Niceno non abbiamo potuto vedere. Ando al Principe 
Messer Aldobrandino Oratore del Duca di Ferrara, in cujus domo habi- 
tamus. Fugli negato a lettere di scatole : chiese pero questa cosa per 
il Conte Giovanni & non per me, che mi parve bene di non tentare 
questo guado col nome vostro. Pure Messer Antonio Yinciguerra, & 
Messer Antonio Pizammano, uno di quelli due gentilhomini philosophi, 
che vennono sconosciuti a Firenze a vedere el Conte, & un fratello di 
Messere Zaccheria Barbero son drieto alia traccia di spuntare questa 
obstinatione. Farassi el possibile: questo b quanto a’ libri. M. Piero 
Lioni d stato in Padova molto perseguitato, & non e chiamato ne quivi 



508 


APPENDIX, XXXI. 


nb in Vinegia a cura nissuna. Pure lia buona scuola, & ha la sua parte 
favorevole : liollo fatto tentare dal Conte del ridursi in Toscana. Credo 
sara in ogni modo difficil cosa. In Padova sta malvolentieri, & la con¬ 
versation non li puo dispiacere, ut ipse ait. Negat tamen se velle in 
Thusciam agere. 

Niccoletto verrebbe a starsi a Pisa, ma vorebbe un beneficio, hoc est, 
un di quelli Canonicati; ha buon nome in Padova, & buona scuola. 
Pure, nisi fallor, e di questi strani fantastichi; lui mi ha mosso questa 
cosa di beneficii: siavi adviso. 

Yisitai stamattina Messer Zaccheria Barbero, & monstrandoli io Y affec¬ 
tion vostra ec. mi rispose sempre lagrimando, &ut visum est, d’ amore : 
risolvendosi in questo : in te uno spem esse. Ostendit se nosse quan¬ 
tum tibi debeat. Sicche fate quello ragionaste, ut favens ad majora. 
Quello Legato che torna da Roma, & qui tecum locutus est Florentiae, 
non e punto a loro proposito, ut ajunt. 

Un bellissimo vaso di terra antiquissimo mi monstro stamattina detto 
Messer Zaccheria, el quale nuovamente di Grecia gli e stato mandato: 
& mi disse, che sel credessi vi piacessi, volentieri ve lo manderebbe con 
due altri vasetti pur di terra. Io dissi che mi pareva proprio cosa da 
V. M. & tandem sara vostro. Domattina faro fare la cassetta, & man- 
derollo con diligentia. Credo non ne habbiate uno si bello in eo genere. 
E’ presso che 3. spanne alto & 4. largo. El Conte ha male negli occhi, 
& non esce di casa, ne e uscito poiche venne a Vinegia. 

Item visitai hiersera quella Cassandra Fidele litterata, & salutai ec. ec. 
per vostra parte. E’ cosa, Lorenzo, mirabile, ne meno in Volgare che 
in Latino, discretissima & meis oculis etiam bella. Partimmi stupito. 
Molto b vostra partigiana, & di voi parla con tutta practica, quasi te 
intus & in cute norit. Verra un di in ogni modo a Firenze a vedervi, 
sicche apparecchiatevi a farle lionore. 

A me non occorre altro per liora, se non solo dirvi, che questa im- 
presa dello scrivere Jibri Greci, & questo favorire e docti vi da tanto 
lionore & gratia universale, quanto mai mold e molti anni non ebbe 
homo alcuno. E particolari vi riserbo a bocca. A Y. M. mi racco- 
mando sempre. Non ho anchora adoperata la lettera del cambio per 
non essere bisognato. Venetiis, 20 Junii, 1491. 


No. XXXI. p. 253. 

Georgius Merula Alexandrinus , Laurentio fy Juliano Medices , 
Salutem. 

Vetekem legimus professorum morem fuisse, quern posteriores cre- 
scentibus subinde disciplinis servaverunt, ut veri habendi gratia, si 
quid a scriptoribus perperam dictum fuisset, id corrigere & emendare 
vellent; nec vel amicis, vel preceptoribus parcerent, modo veritati 



APPENDIX, XXXII. 


509 


consulerent. Sic Aristoteles Platonem, Varro Lelium, Casselium Sul- 
picius, Hilarium Hieronymus, rursum Hieronymum Augustinus repre- 
hendit. Alii quoque permulti leguntur, quorum concertatione bonae 
artes & illustratae sunt & creverunt maxime. Hos ego imitari cupiens, 
cum opus Galeoti, quod de homine inscribitur, legissem, plurimaque 
non dico minus eleganter dicta, vel parum docte tractata, sed plane 
falsa offendissem, veritus ne lectio novi operis avido lectori imponeret, 
& eo magis, cum non deessent qui mendose & vitiose precepta de- 
fenderent, quae veterum auctoritate Galeotus niti videretur, non potui 
sane pati bona ingenia sic decipi, & turpiter errare. Opem itaque 
cum veritati, turn amicis ferre volui, atque ea refellere, quae plurima 
temere & sine judicio dicta, in eo opere leguntur. Turn in libellum 
coacta Laurentio& Juliano Medices privatim dedicare statui, in quorum 
sinu, nostra aetate, maxima spes & studiorum ratio fovetur. Sic enim 
vos partes litterarum suscepistis, ut litteratorio gymnasio in nobilissima 
Italiae parte nuper constituto, jam leges sanctissimae & liberales dis- 
ciplinae sic Laurentium & Julianum parentes appellare possint, quem- 
admodum Florentia Cosmum salutis & ocii sui auctorem, publico 
decreto, patrem patriae dixit. Cujus urbis fato nimirum gratulandum 
est, quod negotiis publicis avum, filium, & nepotes, prefectos continua 
serie habuerit, per quos cert a quaedam & solida Florentini populi 
felicitas perduravit. Et ita nunc urbs pulcherrima & opulenta floret, 
ut non minus e re Florentina sit, Laurentio & Juliano Medices urbis 
tutelam per manus traditam fuisse, quam Cosmum & Petrum illi prae- 
fuisse: quorum prudenti consilio et magnifica opera, undique pre- 
mentibus bellis, tutus & incolumis status civitatis servatus fuerit. 
Sed nec vos poeniteat, qui in administrandis rebus urbicis occupati 
semper magna tractatis, ad haec legenda descendere; quando memoriae 
proditum sit illustres rerum publicarum principes hoc fecisse. Sic 
Cicero post peroratas causas & curas publicas Antonii Gnifonis scholam 
frequentavit. Et Julius Caesar, sive in bello, sive in civili negotio, 
de analogia libros conscripsit. Nos autem esti in errores hominis 
sibi plurimum arrogantis, & qui omne genus scriptorum tractare 
audet, invehamur ; tamen nec petulanti, nec contumelioso sermone res 
agitur, sed litteris & eruditione certatur; ut scilicet aliquando recte 
dijudicari possit, veriusne Galeotus, an Georgius de re Latina dis- 
serat. 


No. XXXII. p. 284. 

Laurentio de Medicis Florentiae. 

Angelus Politianus. 

Magnifice Domine, &c. Mona Clarice sta bene, et cosl tucta questa 
brigata. Qui non sera ancora udito nulla del romore occorso, del 



510 


APPENDIX, XXXII. 


quale ne ha per questo medesimo apportatore dato adviso ad me il 
Franco, che ci ha levata ogni sospitione, perchk ci siamo assai fondati 
in sulla sua lettera, che Mona Clarice dnbitava non fussi la cosa pih 
grave, et che voi de industria 1* allegerissi. In somma e restata di 
buona voglia, et acquievit. 

A noi non manca nulla ; et solamente habbiamo passione delle mo- 
lestie vostre, che sono pure troppe. Iddio ci adjutera. Spes enim in 
vivis est, desperado mortui. 

Vorrebbe Mona Clarice, che quando costa non havessi troppo bisogno 
di Giovanni Tornabuoni, lo rimandassi in qua, che gli pare esser 
sola sanza epso, et per ogni rispetto gli pare sia a proposito la stanza 
sua pih. 

Io attendo a Piero, e sollecitolo a scrivere; et in pocbi di credo vi 
scrivera, che voi vi maraviglierete, che habbiamo qua un maestro, che 
in quindici di insegna a scrivere, et fa maraviglie in questo mestiero. 
E fanciulli s’ attendono a vezzeggiare piu che 1’ usato, et sono tutti 
rifatti. Iddio ajuti loro e voi. Piero non si spicca mai da me, o io 
da lui. Yorrei esservi a proposito in maggiori cose; ma poiche mi 
tocca questo, lo faro volentieri. Rogo tamen, ut aliquid aut litterarum 
aut nuntii hue perlatum iri cures, desque operam, ne quidquid est in 
me auctoritatis, patiaris exolescere, quo et puerum facilius in officio 
teneam, et meo munere, ut par est, defungar. Sed haec si commodum; 
sinminus, quod sors feret, feremus aequo animo. State di buona 
voglia, et fate buono animo, che e grandi uomini si fanno nelle adver- 
sita. Durate, et vosmet rebus servate secundis. Raccomandomivi. 
Pistorii, die 26 Augusti, 1478. 


Magnifice mi patrone. Desidero assai, che la Magnificentia Vostra 
non si sia turbata d’ una mia li scripsi stamani dettatami dalla pas¬ 
sione, la quale ho non d’ altro, che di non potere liavere patientia. 
Spero in bonam partem acceperis, rebusque nostris prospectum 
curabis. 

Mona Clarice vi manda tre fagiani, et una starna. Dice ne habbiate 
cura, come ne venissimo da nemici: perche non sa chi, o quale sia 
questo apportatore, il quale e il padre del ragazzo vostro, che ruppe la 
gamba, cavallaro di Pistoja. 

Per costui vi man do e consiglj di Messer Bartolommeo Sozzini. Holli 
sollecitati a ogni bora, et trovato li scriptori; et elli ancora vi ha usata 
dihgentia somma. Ma non si e potuto far pih presto. 

Piero sta bene, et io li ho grandissima cura. Cosi tutti li altri sono 
sani. Governiamoci il meglio possamo, ma a me toccano tutte le botte, 
pure te propter Lybicae, &c. 

Io aspetto con desiderio novelle, che la moria sia restata per il sos- 
petto ho di voi, et per tornare a servire voi, che con voi volevo et 
credevomi stare. Ma poiche voi, o pih tosto la mia mala sorte mi ha 




APPENDIX, XXXII. 


511 


assegnato questo grado appresso di Vostra Magnificenza, lo sopportero, 
quamvis durum, nec levius fit patientia. Raccomandomi a V. M. 
Pistorii, die 24 Augusti, 1478. 


Magnifice mi Domine. Tutta questa vostra brigata sta bene: Piero 
studia cosi modice, et ogni di andiamo a piacere per la terra: visitiamo 
questi liorti, che ne b piena la citta, et qualche volta la libreria di 
Maestro Zambino, che ci ho trovate parecchie buone cosette et in 
Greco et in Latino. Giovanni se ne va tutto il di in sul cavallino, et 
tirasi drieto tutto questo popolo. Mona Clarice si porta molto bene : 
piglia pero poco piacere, se non delle novelle buone si sentono di 
costa. Poco esce di casa. Non ci manca in effetto nulla. Non si 
accepta presenti, da insalate, fichi et qualche fiasco di vino, o qualche 
beccafico, o simili cose infuori. Questi ciptadini ci porterebbero acqua 
cogli orecchi; et da Andrea Panciatichi siamo trattati tanto amore- 
volmente, che tutti ci pare esserli obbligati. In effetto a ogni cosa di 
qua sa V occhio. Et gia si comincia a far buona guardia alle porte. 
Attendete ancora voi a darvi buon tempo, et vincere; et quando si 
puo, venite a vedere questa vostra brigata, che vi aspetta a man giunte. 
Raccomandomi aV. M. Pistorii, 31 Augusti, 1478. 


Magnifice Domine mi. Mona Clarice s’b sentita da hiersera in qua 
un poco chioccia: scrive lei a Mona Lucretia, che dubita di non si 
sconciare, o di non havere il male, che ebbe la donna di Giovanni 
Tornabuoni. Comincio dopo cena a giacere in sul lettuccio. Stamani 
si levo del letto tardi. Desino bene; et doppo desinare se tornata a 
giacere. Qui sono con lei queste donne de Panciatichi, che e molto 
intendente. Dicemi Andrea, che ella gli ha decto, che Mona Clarice 
non h sanza pericolo di sconciarsi. M’ e paruto d’ avvisarvi di tutto. 
Dicono pero tutte queste donne che credono non hara male. Lei a 
vederla non mostra altro segno di malata, nisi quod cubat, et quod 
paullo commotior est, quam consuevit. 

Piero ando incontro stamattina a questo Signore, et fu il primo. 
Disse poche parole nella sentenza gli scrivete ; et molto bene. El 
Signore solo mise innanzi, et cosi entro in Pistoja. Mona Clarice 
gli presento un bel mazzo di starne: stasera andremo a visitarlo alle 
22 hore, che siamo hora a hore 19. Fe compagnia a Piero Giovanni 
Tornabuoni: et lui riprese le parole di Piero. Mostra questo Illmo. 
Sig. secondo dicone questi sui, di venire con una voglia troppo grande 
di farsi honore, et di satisfare a cotesta Excelsa Signoria et maxime 
alia V. M. 

Clarice vi manda non so quante starne gli sono state donate, 
poiche, presento questo Signore. Io staro intento a quanto seguira; 





512 


APPENDIX, XXXIV. 


et in quello sapro, faro mio debito, e di tutto avviserb V. M. la 
quale Iddio conservi. Raccomandomivi. Pistorii, die 7 Septembris, 
1478. 


No. XXXIII. p. 285. 

Laurentio Medici Florentiae. 

Clarice Ursini. 

Magnifice Conjux ec. Intendo cost! la moria far danno pib che 
l’usato. Quanto possono e prieghi di vostra donna et figliuoli vi 
exorto a dovervi guardare, et anche se possete con riguardo di qui 
venire a vedere queste feste, ci sara consolatione. El tutto rimetto 
in vostra prudentia. Harei caro non essere in favola del Francho, come 
fu Luigi Pulci, ne cbe Messer Agnolo possa dire che stara in casa 
vostra a mio dispetto; et anche T’habbiate facto mettere in camera 
vostra a Fiesole. Sapete vi dissi, che se volevi che stessi, ero conten- 
tissima, e benche habbia patito, che mi dica mille villanie, se e di 
vostro consentimento, sono patiente, ma non che lo possa credere. 
Credo bene che SerNiccolo per voler fare pace con lui, me habbia tanto 
sollecitata. E fanciulli sono tutti sani, et hanno voglia di vedervi, et 
maxime io, che non ho altro struggimento che questo, habbiava a star 
costi a questi' tempi. Sempre a voi mi raccomando. In Cafaggiolo, 
28 Maii, 1479. 


No. XXXIV. p. 288. 

Ricordi di Lorenzo. 

A d\ 19 di Maggio, 1483. venne la nuova, che el Re di Francia per 
se medesimo aveva data la Badia di Fonte Dolce a Giovanni nostro. 
A di 31. venne la nuova da Roma ch’ el Papa gliel aveva conferita, et 
factolo abile a tenere benefizj sendo d’ anni 7. che lo fece Protono- 
tario. A di 1 Giugno venne Giovanni nostro a Firenze dal Poggio, et 
io in sua compagnia; giunto qui fu cresimato da Monsig. nostro d’ 
Arezzo, et datali la tonsura, et fu chiamato Mess. Giovanni. Feronsi 
le predette cerimonie in cappella di casa. La sera poi si torno al Poggio. 
A di 8 Giugno detto venne Jacopino corriere di Francia sulle 12. ore 
con lettere del Re, che haveva dato a Mess. Gio. nostro Y Arcivesco- 
vado di Hayx in Provenza, et a vespro fu spacciato el fante per Roma 




APPENDIX, XXXV. 


513 


per questa ragione con lettere del Re di Francia al Papa et Card, di 
Macone, et al Co. Girolamo, che in quest’ ora medesima se gli sono 
mandate per il Zenino corriere a Furli. Dio mandi di bene. A di 11. 
torno el Zenino dal Co. con lettere al Papa et S. Giorgio, et spacciar- 
onsi a Roma per la posta di Milano. Dio mandi di bene. In questo 
di medesimo dopo messa in cappella di casa si cresimarono tutte le 
fanciulle di casa et fanciugli da M. .Giovanni in fuori. A di 15. a ore 
8. di notte venue lettere da Roma, che il Papa faceva difficulty di dare 
P Arcivescovado a Mess. Giovanni per la eta, et subito si spaccio el 
fante medesimo al Re di Francia. A di 20. venne nuova de Lionetto 
che P Arcivescovo non era morto. A di 1 Marzo, 1484. mori l’Abate 
di Pasignano, et spacciossi una cavalcata per staffetta a Messer Gio. 
d’ Antonio Vespucci Imbasciatore a Roma, che facessi opera col Papa 
della detta Abbadia per Messer Gio. nostro. A di 2. se ne prese la 
tenuta col segno della Signoria per vigore della reservatione, che ne 
aveva fatta Papa Sixto a Mess. Giovanni confermata da lnnocenzio 
nella gita di Piero nostro a Roma a dare ubbidienza. 


No. XXXV. p. 293. 

Alexandri Braccii, descriptio Horti Laurentii Mcdicis. 

Ad. Cl. Equitem Venetum Bernardum Bembum. 

Ne me forte putes oblitum, Bembe, laboris 
Propositi nuper cum Meliore mihi, 

Decrevi Medicum quaecumque legantur in horto 
Scribere, quod Melior non queat ille tuus. 

Prodeat in campum nunc, et se carmine jactet, 
Namque mihi validas sentiet esse manus; 

Cumque viro forti, cum bellatore tremendo, 

Milite cum strenuo praelia saeva geret; 

Victorique dabit victus vel terga potenti. 

Me vocitans clarum magnanimumque ducem, 

Vel captiva meos augebit praeda triumphos, 

Afferet et titulos Crescia palma novos. 

Nunc hortus qui sit Medicum placido accipe vultu, 
Perlege nunc jussu carmina facta tuo; 

Villa suburbanis felix quern continet arvis, 

Carf.gio notum cui bene nomen inest. 

Non fuit hortorum Celebris tarn gloria quondam 
Hesperidum* jactet fabula plura licet. 

Regis et Alcinoi, fortisque Semiramis horti 
Pensilis, aut Cyrum quern coluisse ferunt, 

Quam nunc est horti Laurentis gloria nostri, 
Inclyta fama, decus, nomina, cultus honor. 

Heic olea est pallens, Bellonae sacra Minervae, 

Et Veneri myrtus, aesculus atque Jovi. 

Heic tua frons est, quae sese Thirintius heros 
Cinxit honoratum, popule celsa, caput. 

Est etiam platanus vastis ita consita ramis, 

Illius ut late protegat umbra solum. 

33 



14 


APPENDIX, XXXV. 


Heic viridis semper laurus, gratissima Phoebo, 

Qua meriti vates tempora docta tegunt. 

Ante Mithridatis quam nondum Roma triumplium 
Yiderit, hoc surgit hebanus ampla loco. 

Heic piper, et machir, gariopliilon, assaron, ochi, 
Mellifluens nardum, balsama, myrrha, lothon, 

Intubus est etiam, therebinthns, casia, cedron, 

Heic et odoratus nobilis est calamus. 

Thus quoque fert sacrum superis heic terra Sabaeum, 
Fert cythisum, clarum laudibus Antiochi. 

Est abies, pinus, buxus, viridisque cupressus, 
Nascitur heic quercus, robora, taeda, larix. 

Est suber, est cerrus, fagus, quin carpinus, ilex, 
Fraxinus, et quidquid silva, nemusque ferunt. 

Sunt ulmi, salices, dumi, fragilesque genistae, 
Sambucusque levis, sanguineusque frutex. 

Cornus, lentiscus, terrae quoque proxima fraga, 
Praedulces siliquae, castaneaeque nuces. 

Sunt et quae Romae dederat tua poma Lucullus, 
Cerase, mora rubens, acida sorba, juglans, 

Heic et Avellanae sunt appia mala, pyrumque 
Omnigenum, ficus, persica, chrysomila. 

Punica mala, et cotona, cidoneumque volemum, 
Turbaque prunorum vix numeranda subit. 

Vicia, panicumque, fabae, farrago, lupinum, 

Pisa, cicer, milium, far, triticumque bonum, 

Ervum, fasellus, lens, sisima, oriza, siligo, 

Tiphae, similago, sunt aliae segetes; 

Quin cucumis, melopepo, cucurbita longa, papaver, 
Allia, caepa rubens, porraque cum raphanis, 

Angurium, coriander, eruca, nepeta, et anesum, 
Marubium triste est, asparagusque simul, 

Serpillum, petroselinum, amarathus, onyx, 

Beta, cicoreum, brassica, menta, ruta. 

Quid dicam varias uvas, dulcesque hquores. 

Quid mage sunt suaves nectare, melle, sapa? 

Quid violas referam, celseminos bene olentes, 

Quid niveas memorem purpureasque rosas? 

Cur te, Bembe, moror? sunt hoc plantata sub horto, 
Quidquid habent Veneti, Tuscia quidquid habet; 

Pomorum species hoc omnis frondet in horto, 

Hortus et hie olerum fert genus omne virens. 

Heic florum poteris cunctorum sumere odores, 

Heic si tu quaeras, omne legumen erit. 

Haec nos pauca tibi de multis, scripsimus, at quum 
Plura voles, melius lumine cuncta leges; 

Lustrabisque oculis excelsa palatia regum 
Instar, et egregia quaeque notanda tuis. 

Nam si cuncta velim perstringere versibus, o quam 
Difficile, atque audax aggrederemur opus. 


APPENDIX, XXXVI. 


515 


No. XXXVI. P. 295. 


Instruzioni date a Piero di Lorenzo dd Medici. 

Nella git a di Roma a di 26 di Novembri , 1484. 

Per Siena avrai solamente tre lettere di credenza, una a Messer 
Paolo di Gherardo, una a Messer Cristofano di Guido, e una a Messer 
Andrea Piccolomini, i quali essendo in Siena visiterai a casa loro, e 
date le lettere di credenza, mi raccomanderai alle Magnificenze loro, 
usando le medesime parole quasi a tutti e tre, et in questo effetto; che 
andando tu a Roma, vai a questi Ambasciatori, et avendo a passar per 
Siena, ti com messi visitassi le loro Magnificenze, alle quali avendo io 
afiezione e reverenza, come a’ padri, ho voluto conoschino ancor te, e 
ti conoschino in luogo di figliuolo, e possinti comandare in ogni 
tempo e luogo, come potre’io, perche non altrimenti gli obbedirai, e 
che potendo loro disporre di tutte le facolta, stato, e figliuoli mai, tale 
quale tu se’, ti presenti loro come lor cosa, e cosi ne disponghino ad 
ogni loro beneplacito. In questi effetti userai le parole tue bene 
accomodate, naturali et non forzate, et non ti curare di parere a 
costoro troppo dotto, usando termini umani, dolci e gravi, e con costoro, 
e con ciascun altro. 

Avrai la lista n’ alcuni cittadini Sanesi, i quali avendo tempo, ancora 
visitai, usando le parole e gli effetti sopradetti, et offerendo me cosi ai 
tre di sopra, come agli altri per la conservazione del loro stato, per lo 
quale farei, come per lo mio proprio, massime perche tutta la citta 
nostra generalmente & in questa disposizione, offerendomi e raccoman- 
dandomi a ciascuno. 

Ne’ tempi e luoghi, dove concorreranno gli altri giovani degl’ 
Imbasciatori, portati gravemente, e costumatamente, e con umanita 
verso gli altri pari tuoi, guardandoti di non preceder loro se fossino di 
piil eta di te, poichb per esser mio figliuolo, non sei pero altro, che 
cittadino di Firenze, come sono ancor loro, ma quando poi parra a 
Giovanni di presentarti al Papa separatamente prima informato bene di 
tutte le cirimonie, che si usano, ti presenteria alia Sua Santita, et 
baciata la lettera mia che avrai di credenza al Papa, supplicherai, che si 
degni leggerla, e quando ti tocchera poi a parlare, prima mi raccoman¬ 
derai a’ piedi di Sua Beatitudine, e diragli, che io conosco molto bene, 
ch’ era obbligo mio personalmente conferirmi a piedi di Sua Beatitudine, 
come feci alia Santissima memoria del Predecessore di quella; ma spero 
in quella per umanita sua mi avera per scusato, perche in quel tempo, 
che andai a Roma, potevo lasciare a casa mio fratello, ch’ era di qualita 
di poter supplire molto bene in mia assenza; al presente non posso las¬ 
ciare a casa uomo di piil etA autoritk, che sei tu, e perb credo non 
sarebbe grato a Sua Santita, che io avessi preso partito di andarvi, ma 
che in mio luogo ho mandato te, non mi parendo di poter fare maggior 
segno del desiderio che avrei d’ esser andato in persona. Ho mandato 
te oltre le altre ragioni, perche tu cominci a buon’ hora a conoscer la 
Sua Beatitudine per Padre e Signore, et abbi cagione di continuare in 
questa devozione piii lungo tempo, nella quale nutrisco anco gli altri 


51G 


APPENDIX, XXXVI. 


mia figliuoli, I quali non vorrei avere, quando non fossino di questa 
disposizione. Appresso farai intendere a Sua Santita, come io ho fermo 
proposito di non mi partir mai dai coman dam enti di quella, perche 
oltre all’ essermi naturale la devozione della S. Sede Apostolica, a 
quella di Sua Beatitudine mi costringono molte ragioni e obbliga- 
tioni, che insino quando era in minoribus la casa nostra aveva con la 
persona di quella: oltre di questo ho provato quanto danno mi sia 
stato il non avere avuto grazia col Pontefice passato sebbene a me pare 
senza mia colpa aver sopportate molte persecuzioni, e piuttosto per 
altri mia peccati, che per altra ingiuria o offesa fatta alia Sua Santa 
memoria. Pura lascio questo al giudizio degli altri, e sia come si vuole, 
io sto in fermo proposito non solamente non offendere in alcuna cosa 
Sua Beatitudine, ma pensare il di e la notte a tutte le cose, che stimi 
potergli esser grate: et cosi facendo spero Y allegrezza e contento, che 
ebbi dell’ assunzione di Sua Beatitudine al Pontificato, doversi lungo 
tempo conservare in me, supplicando umilmente Sua Beatitudine, che 
si degni d’accettar me, e voi altri mia figliuoli, et ogni altra mio cosa 
per umili figliuoli et servitori suoi, et conservarci nella sua grazia, 
massime perche io e voi ci sforzeremo con l’opere nostre farci ogni di 
manco indegni della grazia di Sua Beatitudine. 

Appresso farai intendere a Sua Santita che avendogli tu raccoman- 
dato me, ti sforza l’amore di tuo fratello raccomandargli ancor Messer 
Giovanni, il quale io ho fatto Prete, e mi sforzo e di costumi e di 
lettere nutrirlo in modo, che non abbia da vergognarsi fragli altri. 
Tutta la speranza mia in questa parte e in Sua Beatitudine, la quale 
avendo cominciato a fargli qualche dimostrazione, per sua umanita e 
clemenza d’ amore, e che noi siamo nella sua grazia, supplicherai si 
degni continuare per modo, che alle altre obbligazioni della casa nostra 
verso la Sede Apostolica s’ aggiunga questo particolare di Messer Gio¬ 
vanni per i benefizj che avra da S. Beatitudine, ingegnandoti con 
queste et altre parole raccomandarglielo, e metterglielo in grazia piu 
che tu puoi: e questo mi pare che basti col Papa. Harai mie lettere 
di credenza per tutti i Cardinali, le quali darai o no secondo parra a 
Giovanni. In genere a tutti mi raccomanderai, e dirai come tu se’ 
ito a Roma, perche oltre alia servitu mia, Loro Reverendissime Sig- 
norie conoschino in chi ha a continovare la servitii di casa nostra, e 
possinti comandare et usare, come possono tutte Y altre mie cose, 
offerendoti ec. Questo farai con tutti generalmente, ma in specie cogl’ 
infrascritti quel piu che diro appresso, e prima. 

Col Cardinale Visconti dirai, che quando mai non fossi Cardinale, 
la cosa nostra ha obbligationi antique e naturali con tutta la sua illus- 
trissima casa, e che tu te gli dai a conoscere per mio figliuolo, naturale 
Sforzesco, evero servitore di Sua Signoria Reverendissima, e con queste 
condizioni ti comandi sempre, e domesticamente ti tratti, et abbi per 
suo servitore, che cosi nascon tutti quegli di casa nostra. 

Col Cardinale d’Aragona dirai che avendo io tutta la mia speranza 
e fede nella Maesta del Re suo padre, il debito tuo, come mio figliuolo & 
di presentarti a Sua Sig. Reverendissima, e dartegli per servitore 
ancora per particolare obbligo che abbiamo con Sua Signoria Rma. e 


APPENDIX, XXXVI. 


517 


die tu e gli altri mia figliuoli oltre a molti altri benefizj ricevuti dalla 
Maesta del Re, non dimezticherete mai quello dell’ onore, clie mi 
fece a Napoli ultimamente, e dell’ avermene rimandato a casa nel modo 
che fece, e che tu pensi molto bene, che condizioni erano quelle di 
voi altri mia figliuoli, quando fossi seguito altro, e pero per quest’ 
obbligo massimamente Sua Rma. Signoria e tutti gli altri figliuoli 
della Maesta del Re possino venderti & impegnarti, e fame in efietto 
come di lor cosa. 

Col Cardinale Orsino dirai, eh’ io t’ ho mandato la perche vegga 
come le piante di casa loro provino ne’ terreni nostri, e che frutti ci 
fanno, e che tal qual sono, ne mando le primizie a Sua Signoria Rma. 
e sebbene tu non sei degno figliuolo di casa Orsina, pure, come tu sei, 
vuoi essere servitore di Sua Signoria Rma. alia quale come a capo 
della casa ti presenti pronto e disposto in quel che potrai in tutta la 
vita tua, a pagar 1* obbligo, che hai con quella inclita casa, il quale 
non puo esser maggiore, avendo tu avuto da quella 1’ essere, e per 
questa medesima ragione ti par dovere impetrare da Sua Signoria Rma. 
come capo ec. e che abbia ad aver cura di te, e tenerti le mani addosso, 
perche dell’ onore & incarico tuo non ne harebbe per manco parte 
S. R. S. che io tuo padre, raccomandogli la Clarice, e tutti gli altri 
tuoi fratelli e sirocchie, ec. 

Con quei Cardinali, che per qualche capo fossero parenti di casa 
Orsina, come credo sia Savelli, Conti, e Colonna, userai qualche parola 
piu domestica, mostrando che oltre agli altri obblighi, che intendo io 
avere con loro Rme. Signorie, & questo, che Dio ci ha fatto grazia, 
che siamo parenti delle lore inclite case, la qual cosa reputiamo 
tra’ maggiori ornamenti della casa nostra. A Monsignore nostro 
F Arcivescovo di Firenze mostrerai tutta questa istruzione prima che 
cominci ad eseguirla in alcun luogo; la quale secondo F eta tua & 
molto breve, e questo nasce perchh ho speranza, che Sua Signoria 
supplira, come meglio informata e piu prudente, certificandola, che io 
non dico questo per cerimonie, ma pel vero, e pero fa pih e manco 
quello che ti dira Sua Signoria, come se io proprio te lo dicessi. 
Ad ogni modo visiterai tutti quei Signori di casa Orsina che fossero in 
Roma usando ogni riverente termine, & raccomandandomi a Loro 
Signorie, & ofierendoti per figliuolo e servitor loro, poiche loro si sono 
degnati, che noi siamo loro parenti, del qual obbligo tu sei quello, che 
n’hai la maggior parte per essere tanto piu degnamente nato, e pero 
ti sforzerai giusta tua possa di pagarlo almanco con la volonta. Io 
ti mando con Giovanni Tornabuoni, il quale in ogni cosa hai ad obbe- 
dire, n& presumere di far cosa alcuna senza lui, e con lui portandoti 
modestamente, & umanamente con ciascuno, e soprattutto con gravity, 
alle quali cose ti debbi tanto piu sforzare, quanto F eta tua lo comporta 
manco. E poi gli onori e carezze, che ti saranno fatte, ti sarebbon 
d’ un gran pericolo, se tu non ti temperi, e ricordati spesso chi tu 
sei. Se Guglielmo o i suoi figliuoli o nipoti venissero a verderti, 
vedigli gratamente, con gravita pero e modo, mostrando d’ aver com- 
passione delle loro condizioni, e confortandogli a far bene, e sperar 
bene facendolo. Se paresse a Monsig. nostro Arcivescovo, che tu ti 


518 


APPENDIX, XXXVII. 


trasferissi in qualche luogo fuora di Roma per visitare qualclie Signore 
di casa Orsina, puoi farlo, & ubbidire Sua Signoria in questa & in 
ogni altri cosa, come dico di sopra, non altrimenti che facessi a me 
proprio. A Guglielmo dirai, che avendogli scritto la Bianca a stanza 
mia e di Bernardo Rucellai, che vogli compiacergli del Canonicato di 
Pisa per poter fare certa commutazione a suo proposito, sia contento 
farlo, offerendogli Bernardo massime di salvarlo, e sieurarlo in quel 
miglior modo che sapra chiedere, stringendolo poi con le parole a 
questo effetto. 


No. XXXYII. p. 296. 

Ad Archangelum Vicentinum Patrevn et Concanonicum. 

Quanto ordine Joannes Medices Cardinalatus accepit insignia . 

Maximus annus videri tibi potest ex quo ad te nil scripsi. Pater 
Archangele, et me quidem negligentiae atque torporis etiam accuso, 
ut facilius veniam a te promerear: quam si non dederis, neque cen- 
suram tarn formido, quam amo amicissimam et acquissimam tuam. 
Meo tamen ex animo effluere nunquam sane potuit, neque ullo tem¬ 
pore poterit sancta et suavissima recordatio tui, etsi pepercerim calamo 
tarn diu, nulla se mihi offerente vel occasione, vel causa scribendi. 
Yerum me dormientem excivit res modo, quam (ut puto) tu libenter 
Archangele sis auditurus : qui non parvam vitae partem egisti Fesulis, 
et inclytam Mediceorum familiam excoluisti, illis prope vernacul us, 
semperque charissimus. Res plane haec est, ut tibi aliquanto notes- 
cant, quae sunt apud nos acta quo die Joannes Medices, Laurentii 
magni filius, Cardinalatus accepit insignia : cujus rei ordinem mys- 
teria, plausus, publicam laetitiam liberalem impensam, lauta ambi- 
tiosaque convivia enumerare, atque describere facundissimi Oratoris, 
vel Historici opus utique sit: sed grandiloquo aeque Poetae res tanta 
convenerit. Ego ingenue fateor, me a tanto facinore vinci, qui etiam si 
velim, neque rei illustrandae satis possem operae, temporisque navare, 
sacris quadragesimae sanctae mysteriis in aliud me revocantibus. 
Verum enimvero in breviarum quoddam potiora attamen stringam, ne 
palatum incassum tibi exacuerim. Cum itaque Joannes hie Medices 
quintumdecimum aetatis annum tantum agens Cardinalis declaratus 
est, turn Pontifex et sacri Patres voluerunt impuberem ilium tanti 
ordinis administratione insignibusque ad triennium usque carere : quo 
•tantisper et moribus et doctrinis coalesceret, atque proficeret, et 
virtute ac sapientia mactus, tanto fastigio, tantarumque rerum sus- 
ceptione dignus evaderet. Yenit, Deo ilium servante, optatus hie dies, 
plenitudoque triennii. Suscepturus itaque haec ornamenta, quae 
diximus, Pallium scilicet, Birretum, ardentem Pileum, desponsationis 
Annulum, pridie quam talibus iniciaretur, ad nos post meridiem 
Fesulas conscendit, parvo suorum admodum comitatu, et liumili, ac 



APPENDIX, XXXVII. 


519 


simplici cultu. Postridie affuit mane Joannes Picus Mirandula noster, 
et Jacobus Salviatus Carinalis Sororius, ac Simeon Staza notarius: 
cum quibus hora diei circita sexta de cubiculo egressus sacer adolescens 
templum intravit. Ubi primum, in Yirginis laudem (Sabbatum enim 
erat, dies Virgini vetere religione dicatus) ritu cantuque solenni agi 
coepit ea res sacra, quam vulgo dicimus Missam: in qua cum prius 
sacrosanctum ego Domini corpus sanguinemque libassem turn ille ante 
Aram in genua flexus concommunicavit singulari humilitate, et quan¬ 
tum agnosci poterat, devota quidem mente, et erecta semper in Deum. 
Peracta re sacra vestimenta mox a me quoque sunt benedicta : postea 
vero sublata manu bullam breveque Pontificis Maximi tenens, ilium 
liunc in modum affatus equidem sum. “ Quod tibi ecclesia sanctae 
Dei patriae, Generique tuo foelix salutareque sit, hodie Joannes Medices 
decursum est triennium Cardinalatui tuo per hanc bullam, breveque 
praefixum. Legant qui volunt. Servata sunt omnia: de quibus tu 
Simeon publicam tabellam, testimoniumque conficito.” Subinde pallio 
a me in ductus est, ita precante, “ Induat te Deus movum bominem, 
qui secundum Deum creatus est in justicia et sanctitate veritatis.” 
Birretum denique, Galerum, Annulumque porrexi his rursum cum 
verbis, “ Haec sunt decora dignitatis sublimis tuae a Sede apostolica 
tibi tradita atque concessa: quibus quamdiu vixeris, ad Dei laudem, 
tuique salutem utinam semper utare.” Quibus ita peractis, Hymnum, 
“Veni Creator Spiritus!” canoris vocibus ante Aram Fratres cecinere. 
Postremo quantam Cardinalis singulus potest, indulgentiam elargitus 
astantibus, et idem visitantibus altare eodem die quotannis, rediit 
nobiscum in domum. Paulo post prandium Petrus frater cum paucis 
en affuit, delatus sonipede mirae ferocitatis, ac magnitudinis, auratis 
bracteis quaque fulgente. A porta interea Sancti Galli, qua itur 
Fesulas, tanta effusa equitum ac peditum man us, ut plena undique via 
nulli contra in urbem eunti -transitum cederet. Quae omnis mul- 
titudo sistere jussa est ad Munionis pontem, nec datum ulli quidem 
cis pontem, amnemque transire. At vero rebus caeteris ex constituto 
dispositis, descendit ille cum fratre, trajectoque flumine exceptus est 
medius inter Pontifices, Prothonotarios, alios praelatos, ac primores 
urbis cives, et ambitiosissima pompa deductus in urbem per viam 
majorem, quae ad aedes ducit suas. Qui cum pervenisset ad Virginis 
Nuntiatae basilicam, mula descendens, ad illius humiliter se constravit 
aram, pro se orans voce summissa. Inde ad Divae Liparatae templum 
profectus pari modo sic est opem gratiamque precatus : Denique in 
lares se recepit quos habitat suos. Ubi ferme tota in unum conspecta 
est civitas ita frequens ut non via modo, sed fenestrae et tecta ipsa vix 
caperent prospectantes. In sequentem vero noctem jugis in plateis, 
inque turribus et pinnis ignes collucentes illuminarunt veluti diem, et 
conclamantium vocibus omnifariisque tinnitibus, atque crepitibus 
aether semper insonuit ut obliti sint homines somnos hac tanta laetitia, 
inspectumque sit quanti faciat Reipublicae servatorem et columen 
gratissima civitas. Haec dixisse extempore sit mihi satis; seriem 
alius copiosius ornatiusque conscripserit. Yale atque ora ut ista sint 
fausta. Fesulis, pridie idus Martias. 


520 


APPENDIX, XXXVIII. 


No. XXXVIII. P. 296. 


Lorenzo dd Medici Padre. 

A Messer Giovanni dd Medici Card. 

Mess. Giovanni: Yoi sete molto obbligato a Mess. Domenedio, e 
tutti noi per rispetto vostro, perche oltra a molto beneficj & honori, 
clie ba ricevuti la casa nostra da lui, ha fatto che nella persona vostra 
veggiamo la maggior dignita, che fosse mai in casa; & ancora che la 
cosa sia per se grande, le circostantie la fanno assai maggiore, mas- 
sime per 1* eta vostra & conditione nostra. Et pero il primo mio 
ricordo e chi vi sforziate esser grato a M. Domenedio, ricordandovi ad 
ogn’ hora, che non i meriti vostri, prudentia o sollecitudine, ma mira- 
bilmente esso Iddio v* ha fatto Cardinale, & da lui lo riconosciate, 
comprobando questa conditione con la vita vostra santa, esemplare, & 
honesta, a che siete tanto pm obbligato per havere voi gia dato qualche 
opinione nella adolescentia vostra da poterne sperare tali frutti. Saria 
cosa molto vituperosa, & fuor del debito vestro & aspettatione mia, 
quando nel tempo che gli altri sogliono acquistare piu ragione & 
miglior forma di vita, voi dimenticaste il vostro buono instituto. 
Bisogna adunque, che vi sforziate alleggerire il peso della dignita che 
portate, vivendo costumatamente, et perseverando nelli studj con¬ 
venient alia professione vostra. L’ anno passato io presi grandissima 
consolatione, intendendo, che senza che alcuno ve lo ricordasse, da voi 
medesimo vi confessaste piu volte et communicaste ; ne credo, che ci sia 
miglior via a conservarsi nella gratia di Dio, che lo abituarsi in simili 
modi, et perseverarvi. Questo mi pare il piu utile et conveniente 
ricordo che per lo primo vi posso dare. Conosco che andando voi a 
Roma, che e sentina di tutti i mali, entrate in maggior difficulta di 
fare quanto vi dico di sopra, perche, non solamente gli esempj muo- 
vono, ma non vi mancheranno particolari incitatori et corruttori; 
perche, come voi potete intendere, la promotione vostra al Cardinalato, 
per 1’ eta vostra, et per le altre conditioni sopradette, arreca seco 
grande invidia, et quelli, che non hanno potuto impedire la perfetione 
di questa vostra dignita, s’ ingegneranno sottilmente diminuirla, con 
denigrare 1* opinione della vita vostra, et farvi sducciolare in quella 
stessa fossa dove essi sono caduti, coniidandosi molta debba lor 
riuscire per 1’ eta vostra. Yoi dovete tanto pih opporvi a queste 
difficulta quanto nel Collegio hora si vede manco virth: et io mi 
ricordo pure havere veduto in quel Collegio buon numero d’ huomini 
dotti et buoni, e di santa vita: pero e meglio seguire questi esempj, 
perche facendolo, sarete tanto piu conosciuto et stimato, quanto 1’ altrui 
conditioni vi distingueranno dagli altri. E’ necessario che fuggiate, 
come Scilla et Cariddi, il nome della hipocrisia, et come la mala fama, 
et che usiate mediocrita, sforzandovi in fatto fuggire tutte le cose, 
che olfendono in dimostrazione, et in conversatione non mostrando 
austerita, o troppa severita; che sono cose, le quali col tempo inten- 
derete et farete meglio, a mia opinione, che non le posso esprimere. 
Yoi intenderete di quanta importanza et esempio sia la persona d’un 


APPENDIX, XXXVIII. 


521 


Cardinale, et die tutto il mondo starebbe bene se i Cardinali fussino 
come dovrebbono essere; perciocche farebbono sembre un buon Papa, 
onde nasce quasi il riposo di tutti i Christiani. Sforzatevi dunque 
d’ essere tale voi, cbe quando gli altri fussin cosi fatti, se ne potesse 
aspettare questo bene universale. Et perche non d maggior fatica, 
cbe conversar bene con diversi buomini, in questa parte vi posso mal 
dar ricordo, se non cbe v’ ingegnate, cbe la conversatione vostra con 
gb Cardinab et altri huomini di conditione sia caritativa et senza 
offensione; dico misurando ragionevolmente, et non secondo Y altrui 
passione, perche molti volendo quello che non si dee, fanno della 
ragione ingiuria. Giustificate adunque la conscientia vostra in questo, 
cbe la conversatione vostra con ciascuno sia senza offensione; questa 
mi pare la regola generale molto a proposito vostro, perche quando la 
passione pur fa qualche inimico, come si partono questi tab, senza 
ragione, dab’ amicitia, cosi qualche volta tornano facilmente. Credo 
per questa prima andata vostra a Roma sia bene adoperare piu gb 
orecchi che la lingua. Hoggimai io vi bo dato del tutto a M. Dome- 
nedio, et a S. Chiesa; onde e necessario, cbe diventiate un buono 
Ecclesiastico, et facciate ben capace ciascuno, cbe amate 1’ onore et 
stato di S. Chiesa, et della Sede Apostolica innanzi a tutte le cose del 
mondo, posponendo a questo ogni altro rispetto; ne vi manchera 
modo con questo riservo d’ ajutare la cittd et la casa; perche per 
questa citta fa 1* unione della Chiesa, et voi dovete in cio essere buona 
catena, et la casa ne va colla citta. Et benche non si possono vedere 
gb accidenti cbe verranno, cosi in general credo, che non ci babbiano 
a mancare modi di salvare, come si dice, la capra e i cavoli, tenendo 
fermo il vostro primo presnpposto, cbe anteponate ha Chiesa ad ogni 
altra cosa. Yoi siete il piu giovane Cardinale non solo del Cobegio, 
ma che fusse mai fatto infino a qui; et pero e necessario, che dove 
bavete a concorrere con gb altri, siate il pid sollecito, il piu humile, 
senza farvi aspettare o in Cappeba, o in Concistoro, o in Deputazione. 
Yoi conoscerete presto gb pid e gb meno accostumati. Con gb meno 
si vuol fuggire la conversatione molto intrinseca, non solamente per lo 
fatto in se, ma per 1’ opinione; a largo conversare con ciascheduno. 
Nelle pompe vostre lodero pid presto stare di qua dal moderato cbe 
di la; et pid presto vorrei beba stalla, et famiglia ordinata et polita, 
che ricca et pomposa. Ingegnatevi di vivere accostumatamente, ri- 
ducendo a poco a poco le cose al termine, cbe per essere hora la 
famiglia et il padron nuovo non si puo. Gioje e seta in poche cose 
stanno bene a pari vostri. Pid presto qualche gentilezza di cose an- 
tiche et belli libri, et pid presto famiglia accostumata et dotta che 
grande. Convitar pid spesso cbe andare a conviti, ne pero superflua- 
mente. Usate per la persona vostra cibi grossi, et fate assai esercitio ; 
perche in cotesti panni si viene presto in qualche infermita, chi non ci 
ha cura. Lo stato del Cardinale e non manco sicuro che grande: 
onde nasce che gb huomoni si fanno negbgenti, parendo loro haver 
conseguito assai, et poterlo mantenere con poca fatica, et questo 
nuoce spesso et aba conditione et aba vita, aba quale e necessario che 
abbiate grande avvertenza; et pid presto pendiate nel fidarvi poco, 
che troppo. Una regola sopra Y altre vi conforto ad usare con tutta la 


m 


APPENDIX, XXXIX. 


sollecitudine vostra; et questa e di levarvi ogni mattina di buona hora, 
perche oltra al conferir molto alia sanita, si pensa et espedisce tutte le 
faccende del giorno, et al grado che havete, havendo a dir 1’ ufficio, 
studiare, dare audientia ec. ye ’1 trovarete molto utile. Un’ altra cosa 
ancora e sommamente necessaria a un pari vostro, cioe pensare sempre, 
et massime in questi principii, la sera dinanzi, tutta quello che havete 
da fare il giorno seguente, acciocehe non vi venga cosa alcuna imme- 
ditata. Quanto al parlar vostro in Concistorio, credo sara pih costu- 
matezza, et pih laudabil modo in tutte le occorrenze, che vi si pro- 
porranno, riferirsi alia Santita di N. S. causando, che per essere vol 
giovane, et di poca esperientia, sia pih ufficio vostro rimettervi alia 
S. S. et al sapientissimo giuditio di quella. Ragionevolmente voi 
sarete richiesto di parlare et intercedere appresso a N. S. per molte 
speciality. Ingegnatevi in questi principj di richiederlo manco potete, 
et dargliene poca molestia, che di sua natura il Papa e piu grato a 
chi manco gli spezza gli orecchi. Questa parte mi pare da osservare 
per non lo infastidire: et cosi V andargli innanzi con cose piacevoli, 
o pur quando accadesse, richiederlo con humilta et modestia dovera 
sodisfargli pifi, et esser piu secondo la natura sua. State sano: di 
Firenze. 


No. XXXIX. p. 312. 

Laurentio de Medicis. 

Ludovicus et Chechus Ursius. 

Magnifico et colendissimo Laurentio nostro; siamo certi che la 
M. Y. prima che ora, sara stato advisato della morte di questo iniquo et 
maledetto, non voglio dire N. S. che non meritava essere. Ma per 
satisfare in parte al debito nostro, benche prima non se sia possuto, cie 
parso, considerato la temeraria sua presuntione et bestialita, che habbi 
havuto tanto ardire, che se sia voluto inbrattare nel sangue di quella 
Magnifica et Excelsa Casa vostra, significarli la crudele morte, che li 
habbiamo fatto fare, et meritamente. La M. Y. sappia come questo 
tiranno, ultra la famiglia sua di casa, tenea cento provisionati. Iddio 
ci ha inspirati in modo, che non extimando periculo alcuno, quantunche 
li fosse grandissimo, et cie siamo mossi cum una firmissima delibera- 
tione o de non tornare a casa, o veramente d’ eseguire quanto 
habbiamo facto, che considerando la grandissima guardia, che questo 
iniquo tenea, et non essere stato noi pih che 9. persone ad fare questo 
effecto, lo accusamo piuttosto ad una cosa divina che humana, como 
puo conjecturare la M. Y. che exceptandone epso maledetto, et uno 
baricello di sua natura, non si e sparso pure una goccia di sangue; cosa 
da non credere. Questa Comunita non se poteria ritrovare de miglior 
voglia, et non poteria essere meglio unita insieme de quello e. Hab¬ 
biamo voluto significare tutte queste cose alia M. Y. perche quella 
grandemente e stata offesa, et siamo certi ne havera singular piacere. 
Nui non poteressimo mai significare a quella li soi portamenti, ma per 
declararne in parte, sappia non solamente non amava li soi cittadini, 
ma non faceva exstima ne di Dio ne de’ Santi: era bevitore del sangue 



APPENDIX, XL. 


523 


de’ poveromini, non attendeva mai promessa alcuna, finalmente non se 
amava che se medesimo. Avea conducto questa terra in una extrema 
necessita, et in modo che appena ci restava el fiato. Tandem h. piaciuto 
all’ Omnipotente Iddio liberare questo nostro populo di mano di questo 
Nerone, et quello che volea fare a nui altri, Iddio ce lo ha prima facto 
fare sopra il capo suo, che non poteva pih sustinere tante insidie et 
malignita, quanto in epso regnava. Per li soi mali portamenti, et per 
amore della M. Y. della quale siamo servitori, et per il bene della 
Repubblica, et per il nostro proprio interesse, habbiamo facto questo, 
che habbiamo liberato questo nostro populo dallo inferno. Pertanto 
preghiamo la M. V. che in questo nostro bisogno ci voglia prestare 
quello adjuto et favore, che speramo nella M. Y. cum consiliarse 
quanto habbiamo ad fare in questo nostro bisogno, offerendoce alia M. 
V. per quanto vagliamo ad ogni suo beneplacito, farli cosa grata. 
Ricomendiamo di continuo a quella, quae bene valeat. 

Et ad cio che in tutto quella resti satisfacta 1’ advisiamo como di 
questa maledetta stirpe non se ne trovera mai piu radice. Et del facto 
delle rocche speramo che per tutto el di de oggi haverne una, et 1’ altra 
assediarli in modo, che per forza bisognera, che pigli partito. Ex 
Forlivio, die 19 Aprilis, 1488. 


No. XL. p. 331. 

Extat Liber in Tabulario Mediceo qui inscribitur Libro scritto anno 
1464, appartenente a Piero di Cosmo de’ Medigi, in quo hae gemmae 
et numismata enumerantur . 


Medaglie cento d’ oro pesano libbre 2 oncie una fior .... 

Medaglie cinquecentotre d’ ariento pesano libre sei. 

Un’ anello d’ oro con una corniuola d’ una mosca in cavo 
Un’ anello d’ oro con una corniuola con uno cigno in cavo 
Un’ anello con una testa d’ un Fauno di rilievo di diaspro 
Un’ anello d’ oro con una testa di donna di rilievo in cammeo . 

Un’ anello d’ oro con due rubini con una testa di Doraitiano di rilievo 
Un’ anello d’ oro con la testa di Medusa di rilievo . 

Un’ anello d’ oro con la testa di Cammilla in cammeo di rilievo . 

Un suggello d’ oro con una figura in damatisto in cavo .... 

Un suggello d’ oro con una testa d’ uomo in damatisto in cavo . 

Un suggello d’ oro con una testa di donna in damatisto in cavo . 

Uno Niccolo legato in oro con la testa di Vespasiano in cavo . . . 

Una corniuola legata in oro con uno uomo mezzo pesce et una fanciulla in cavo 

Una corniuola legata in oro con unafemina a sedere, et uno maschio ritto in cavo 

Un Cammeo legato in oro con una testa di uomo in nudo in cavo 
Un Cammeo legato in oro con una testa vestita in cavo .... 

Uno Sardonio legato in oro con un toro in cavo ... 

Una corniuola legata in oro con una testa di Adriano di rilievo . 

Un Cammeo legato in oro con una testa di fanciullo di rilievo . 

Uno Calidonio legato in oro con una testa di tutto rilievo 
Un Cammeo con una testa d’ uomo di rilievo legato in oro 
Un Cammeo legato in oro con 2 figure ritte di rilievo 
Un Cammeo legato in oro con 2 figure, et un lione di rilievo . 

Un Cammeo legato in oro con tre figure, ed un albero di rilievo . - 

Un Cammeo legato in oro d’ assai rilievo con 2 figure una a sedere, e una ritta 


300 

100 

7 

7 

10 

10 

15 

20 

60 

30 

20 

15 

25 

25 

25 

40 

50 

60 

50 

50 

40 

50 

60 

60 

60 

70 








524 


APPENDIX, XLI. 


Un Cammeo legato in oro con due figure, e un albero in mezzo, &c. di rilievo 80 
Un Cammeo legato in oro con la storia di Dedalo di rilievo . . . 100 

Un Cammeo legato in oro con una figura, et uno fanciullo in spalla di rilievo 200 
Un Cammeo legato in oro con P Area di Noe, et piu figure, et animali di rilievo 300 
Una tavola di bronzo dorato con saggi di ariento . . . . . 100 

Una tavola greca con uno S. Michele de Bario legata in ariento dorato . 20 

Una tavola greca di pietra fine con nostra Donna, et 12 Apostoli ornata d’ariento 25 
Una tavola greca di Musaico con S. Jo. Batista intero ornata d’ ariento . 20 

Una tavola greca di Musaico ornata d’ ariento col Giudizio ... 30 

Una tavola alia greca con una nostra Donna ornata d’ariento ... 35 

Una tavola greca con nostro Signore dipinto ornata d’ariento ... 40 

Una tavola greca con 2 figure ritte di Musaico ornata d’ ariento . . 50 

Una tavola greca di Musaico con una Annuntiata ornata d* ariento . . 40 

Una tavola greca di Musaico con uno S.Niccolo ornata d’ ariento . . 50 

Una tavola greca di Musaico con uno mezzo S. Jo. ornata d’ ariento . . 60 

Una tavola greca di Musaico con uno S. Piero ornata d’ ariento . . 50 

Una tavola greca con una ^ figura del Salvatore ornata d’ ariento . . 100 

Una tavola d’ ariento dorato con uno quadro smaltato, et tondo . . 50 

Una tavola d’ ariento intagliata la paxione di Cristo. 15 


2624 

Succedunt his e diversi vasi preziosi, e altre cose di valuta, che fanno la 

somma di Fiorini .......... 8110 

Varie gioje inventariate che fanno la somma di Fior ..... 17689 

Gli arienti, che si trovavano in Firenze, e nelle Ville di Careggi, e di Cafag- 
giolo. 

Catalogo dei libri. 


No. XLI. p. 352. 

Angelus Politianus, Jacobo Antiquario suo. S. D. 

VuLGARE est, ut qui serius paulo ad amicorum literas respondeant, 
nimias occupationes suas excusent. Ego vero quo minus mature ad te 
rescripserim, non tarn culpam confero in occupationes (quanquam ne 
ipsae quidem defuerunt) quam in acerbissimum potius hunc dolorem 
quern mihi ejus viri obitus attulit, cujus patrocinio nuper unus ex om¬ 
nibus literarum professoribus, et eram fortunatissimus, et habebar. 
Illo igitur nunc extincto, qui fuerat unicus author eruditi laboris vide¬ 
licet, ardor etiam scribendi noster extinctus est, omnisque prop& vete- 
rum studiorum alacritas elanguit. Sed sitantus amor casus cognoscere 
nostros, et qualem se ille vir in extremo quasi vitae actu gesserit audire, 
quanquam et fletu impedior, et a recordatione ipsa, quasique retracta- 
tione doloris abhorret animus, ac resilit, obtemperabo tamen tuae tan- 
tae ac tarn honestae voluntati, cui deesse pro instituta inter nos amicitia, 
neque volo, neque possum. Nam profecto ipsemet mihi nimium et in- 
civilis viderer, et inhumanus, si tibi et tali viro, et mei tarn studioso rem 
ausim prorsus ullam denegare. Caeterum quoniam de quo tibi a nobis 
scribi postulas, id ejusmodi est, ut facilius sensu quodam animi tacito, 
et cogitatione comprehendatur, quam aut verbis, aut literis exprimi 
possit, hac lege tibi jam nunc obsequium nostrum astringimus, ut neque 
id polliceamur quod implere non possimus, tua certa causa non recuse- 
mus. Laboraverat igitur circiter menses duos Laurentius Medices e 







APPENDIX, XLT. 


525 


doloribus iis, qui quoniam viscerum cartilagini inhaereant, ex augmento 
Hypochondrii appellantur. Hi tametsi neminem sua quidem vi jugu- 
lant, quoniam tamen acutissimi sunt, etiam jure molestissimi perhiben- 
tur. Sed enim in Laurentio, fatone dixerim, an inscitia, incuriaque 
medentium id evenit, ut dum curatio doloribus adhibetur, febris una 
omnium insidiosissima contracta sit, quae sensim illapsa, non quidem 
arterias, aut venas, sicuti caeterae solent, sed in artus, in viscera, in 
nervos, in ossa quoque, et medullas incubuerit. Ea vero quod subtili- 
ter, ac latenter, quasique lenibus vestigiis irrepserat, parum primo ani- 
madversa, dein vero cum satis magnam sui significationem dedisset, non 
tamen pro eo ac debuit diligenter curata, sic hominem debilitaverat 
prorsus, atque afflixerat, ut non viribus modo, sed corpore etiam pene 
omni amisso, et consumpto distabesceret. Quare pridie quam naturae 
satisfaceret, cum quidem in villa Caregia cubaret aeger, ita repente con- 
cidit totus, nullamut jam suae salutis spem reliquam ostenderet. Quod 
homo, ut semper cautissimus, intelligens, nihil prius habuit, quam ut 
animae medicum accerseret, cui de contractis tota vita noxiis Christiano 
ritu confiteretur. Quem ego hominem postea mirabundum, sic prope 
audivi narrantem, nihil sibi unquam neque majus, neque incredibilius 
visum, quam quomodo Laurentius constans, paratusque adversus mor¬ 
tem, atque imperterritus, et praeteritorum meminisset, et praesentia 
dispensasset, et de futuris item religiosissime prudentissimeque cavisset. 
Nocte dein media quiescenti, meditantique, sacerdos adesse cum Sacra¬ 
mento nunciatur. Ibi vero excussus, Procul, inquit, a me hoc absit, 
patiar ut Jesum meum, qui me finxit, qui me redemit, ad usque cubi- 
culum hoc venire: tollite hinc, obsecro, me quamprimum, tollite, ut 
Domino occurram. Et cum dicto sublevans ipse se quantum poterat, 
atque animo corporis imbecillitatem sustentans, inter familiarium manus 
obviam seniori ad aulam usque procedit, cujus ad genua prorepens, sup- 
plexque ac lachrymans: Tune, inquit, mitissime Jesu, tu nequissimum 
hunc servum tuum dignaris invisere? At quid dixi servum? immo 
vere hostem potius, et quidem ingratissimum, qui tantis abs te cumu- 
latus beneficiis, nec tibi dicto unquam audiens fuerim, et tuam toties 
majestatem laeserim. Quod ego te, per illam qua genus omne hominum 
complecteris, charitatem, quaeque te caelitus ad nos in terram deduxit, 
nostraeque humanitatis induit involucris, quae famem, quae sitim, quae 
frigus, aestum, labores, irrisus, contumelias, flagella et verbera, quae 
postremo etiam mortem, crucemque subire te compulit; Per hanc ego 
te, salutifer Jesu, quaeso, obtestorque, avertas faciem e peccatis meis: 
ut cum ante tribunal tuum constitero, quo me jamdudum citari plane 
sentio, non mea fraus, non culpa plectatur, sed tuae crucis meritis con- 
donetur. Yaleat, valeat in causa mea, sanguis ille tuus, Jesu preciosis- 
simus, quem pro asserendis in libertatem liominibus, in ara ilia sublimi 
nostrae redemptionis efludisti. Haec atque alia cum diceret lachrymans 
ipse, laclirymantibusque qui aderant universis, jubet eum tandem sacer¬ 
dos attolli, atque in lectulum suum, quo sacramentum commodius ad- 
ministraretur, referri. Quod ille, cum aliquandiu facturum negasset, 
tamen ne seniori suo foret minus obsequens, exorari se passus, iteratis 
ejusdem ferme sententiae verbis, corpus ac sanguinem dominicum 
plenus jam sanctitatis, et divina quadam majestate verendus accepit. 


520 


APPENDIX, XLI. 


Turn consolari Petrum filium (nam reliqui aberant) exorsus, ferret aeque 
animo vim necessitatis admonebat, non defuturum caelitus patrocinium, 
quod ne sibi quidem unquam in tautis rerum, fortunaeque, varietatibus 
defuisset; virtutem modo et bonam mentem coleret, bene consulta 
bonos eventus paritura. Post ilia contemplabundus aliquandiu quievit. 
Exclusis dein caeteris eundem ad se natum vocat, multa monet, multa 
praecipit, multa edocet, quae nondum foras emanarunt, plena omnia 
tamen (sicuti audivimus,) et sapientiae singularis, et sanctimoniae; 
quorum tamen unum quod nobis scire quidem licuerit, adscribam. 
Gives, inquit, mi Petre, successorem te meum haud dubie agnoscent. 
Nec autem vereor, ne non eadem futurus authoritate in hac Republica 
sis, qua nos ipsi ad lianc diem fuerimus. Sed quouiam civitas omnis 
corpus est (quod ajunt) multorum capitum, neque mos geri singulis 
potest, memento in ejusmodi varietatibus id consilium sequi semper, 
quod esse quam honestissimum intelliges, magisque universitatis, quam 
seorsum cujusque rationem habeto. Mandavit et de funere, ut scilicet 
avi Cosmi exemplo justa sibi fierent, intra modum videlicet eum qui 
privato conveniat. Venit dein Ticino Lazarus vester, medicus (ut qui¬ 
dem visum est) experientissimus, qui tamen sero advocatus, ne quid in- 
expertum relinqueret, preciosissima quaedam gemmis omne genus, 
margaritisque conterendis medicamenta tentabat. Quaerit ibi turn ex 
familiaribus Laurentius (jam enim admissi aliquot fueramus) quid ille 
agitaret medicus, quid moliretur. Cui cum ego respondissem, epithema 
eum concinnare, quo praecordia foverentur, agnita ille statim voce, ac 
me hilare intuens (ut semper solitus) heus, inquit, heus Angele! simul 
prachia jam exbausta viribus aegre attollens, manus ambas arctissime 
prebendit. Me vero singultus lachrymaeque cum occupavissent, quas 
celare tamen rejecta cervice conabar, nihilo ille commotior, etiam atque 
etiam manus retentabat. Ubi autem persensit fletu adhuc praepediri 
me, quo minus ei operam darem, sensim scilicet eas, quasique dissi- 
mulanter omisit. Ego me autem continuo in penetrale thalami con- 
jicio flentem, atque habenas (ut ita dicam) dolori et lachrymis laxo. 
Mox tamen revertor eodem, siccatis quantum licebat oculis. Ille ubi 
me vidit (vidit autem statim) vocat ad se rursum, quaeritque perblande, 
quid Picus Mirandula suus ageret. Respondeo, manere eum in urbe, 
quod vereatur, ne illo si veniat, molestior sit. At ego, inquit, vicis- 
sim ni verear, ne molestum sit ei hoc iter, videre atque alloqui 
extremum exoptem, priusquam plane a vobis emigro. Yin’ tu, m- 
quam, accersatur? Ego vero, ait ille, quamprimum. Ita sane facio. 
Venerat jam, assederat, atque ego quoque juxta genibus incubueram, 
quo loquentem patronum facilius, utpote defecta jam vocula, exau- 
direm. Bone Deus, qua ille hunc hominem comitate, qua humani- 
tate, quibus etiam quasi blanditiis excepit ? Rogavit primo, ignosceret 
quod ei laborem hunc injunxisset, amori hoc tamen et benevolentiae 
in ilium suae adscriberet, libentius sese animam editurum, si prius 
amicissimi hominis aspectu morientes oculos satiasset. Turn sermones 
injecit urbanos, ut solebat, et familiares. Non nihil etiam tunc quoque 
jocatus nobiscum, quin utrosque intuens nos: Vellem, ait, distulisset 
me saltern mors haec ad eum diem, quo vestram plan& bibliotlieeam 
absoluissem. Ne multis. Abierat vix dum Picus, cum Ferrariensis 


APPENDIX, XLI, 


527 


Hieronymus, insignis et doctrina, et sanctimonia vir, caelestisque doc- 
trinae praedicator egregius, cubiculum ingreditur: hortatur ut fidem 
teneat; idle vero tenere se ait inconcussam: ut quam emendatissime 
posthac vivere destinet; scilicet facturum obnixe respondit: ut mortem 
denique, si necesse sit aequo animo tolleret: nihil vero, inquit ille, 
jucundius, siquidem ita Deo decretum sit. Recedebat homo jam, cum 
Laurentius, Heus, inquit, benedictionem pater, priusquam a nobis 
proficisceris. Simul demisso capite vultuque, et in omnem piae reli- 
gionis imaginem formatus, subinde ad verba illius et preces rite ac 
memoriter responsitabat, ne tantillum quidem familiarium luctn, 
aperto jam, neque se ulterius dissimulante, commotus. Diceres in- 
dictam caeteris, uno excepto Laurentio, mortem. Sic scilicet unus ex 
omnibus ipse nullam doloris, nullam perturbationis, nullam tristitiae 
significationem dabat, consuetumque animi vigorem, constantiam, 
aequabilitatem, magnitudinem, ad extremum usque spiritum produce- 
bat. Instabant Medici adliuc tamen, et ne nihil agere viderentur, 
officiosissime hominem vexabant. Nihil ille tamen aspernari, nihil 
aversari quod illi modo obtulissent, non quidem quoniam spe vitae 
blandientis illiceretur, sed ne quern forte moriens, vel levissime per- 
stringeret. Adeoque fortis ad extremum perstitit, ut de sua quoque 
ipsius morte nonnibil cavillaretur, sicuti cum porrigenti cuidam 
cibum, rogantique mox quam placuisset, respondit: quam solet mo- 
rienti. Post id blande singulos amplexatus, petitaque suppliciter 
venia, si cui gravior forte, si molestior morbi vitio fuisset, totum 
se post ilia perunctioni summae, demigrantisque animae corn- 
men dationi dedidit. Recitari dein evangelica historia coepta est, 
qua scilicet irrogati Christo cruciatus explicantur, cujus ille agnos- 
cere se verba et sententias prop& omnes, modo labra tacitus movens, 
modo languentes oculos erigens, interdum etiam dignitorum gestu 
significabat. Postremo sigillum crucifixi argenteum, margaritis gem- 
misque magnifice adornatum, defixis usquequaque oculis intuens, iden- 
tidemque deosculans expiravit—Yir ad omnia summa natus, et qui 
flantem reflantemque toties fortunam, usque adeo sit alterna velifica- 
tione moderatus, ut nescias utrum secundis rebus constantior, an ad- 
versis aequior ac temperantior apparuerit: ingenio vero tanto ac tarn 
facili, et perspicaci, ut quibus in singulis excellere alii magnum putant, 
ille universis pariter emineret. Nam probitatem, justitiam, fidem, 
nemo arbitror nescit ita sibi Laurentii Medicis pectus atque animum, 
quasi gratissimum aliquod domicilium, templumque delegisse. Jam 
comitas, humanitas, affabilitas quanta fuerit, eximia quadam in eum 
totius populi, atque omnium plane ordinum benevolentia declaratur. 
Sed enim inter haec omnia, liberalitas tamen, et magnificentia explen- 
descebat, quae ilium pene immortali quadam gloria ad Deos usque 
provexerat: cum interim nihil ille famae duntaxat causa, & nominis, 
omnia vero virtutis amore persequebatur. Quanto autem literatos 
homines studio complectebatur ? Quantum honoris, quantum etiam 
reverentiae omnibus exhibebat? Quantum denique operae industri- 
aeque suae conquirendis toto orbe terrarum, coemendisque linguae 
utriusque voluminibus posuit, quantosque in ea re quam immanes 
sumptus fecit ? ut non aetas modo haec, aut hoc seculum, sed pos- 


528 


APPENDIX, XLf. 


teritas etiam ipsa, maximam in hujus hominis interitu jacturam fecerit. 
Caeterum consolantur nos maximo in luctu liberi ejus, tanto patre 
dignissimi quorum, qui maximus natu Petrus, vixdum primum et vi- 
gesimum ingressus annum, tanta jam et gravitate, et prudentia, et 
authoritate molem totius Reip. sustentat, ut in eo statim revixisse gem- 
tor Laurentius existimetur. Alter annorum duodeviginti Joannes, et 
Cardinalis amplissimus (quod nunquam cuiquam id aetatis contigerit) 
et idem pontifici maximo, non in ecclesiae patrimonio duntaxat, sed in 
patriae quoque suae ditione legatus, talem tantumque se jam tarn 
arduis negotiis gerit, et praestat, ut omnium in se mortalium oculos 
converterit, atque increcbbilem quandam, cui responsurus planissime 
est, expectationem concitaverit. Tertius porro Julianus, impubes ad- 
huc, pudore tamen ac venustate, neque non probitatis, et ingenii miri- 
fica quadam suavissimaque indole, totius sibi jam civitatis animos de- 
vinxit. Yerum ut de aliis in praesenti taceam, de Petro certe ipso 
cohibere me non possum, quin recenti re testimonium hoc loco pater- 
num adscribam. Duobus circiter ante obitum mensibus, cum in suo 
cubiculo sedens (ut solebat) Laurentius, de Philosophia, et literis no¬ 
biscum fabularetur, ac se destinasse diceret reliquam aetatem in iis 
studiis mecum, et cum Ficino, Picoque ipso Mirandula consumere, 
procul scilicet ab urbe, et strepitu ; negabam equidem hoc ei per suos 
cives licere, qui quidem indies viderentur magis magisque ipsius et 
consilium, et authoritatem desideraturi. Turn subridens ille, Atqui 
jam , inquit, vices nostras alumno tuo delegabimus, atque in eum sarci- 
nam hanc> et onus omne reclinabimus. Cumque ego rogassem, an ad- 
liuc in adolescente, tantum virium deprehendisset, ut eis bona fide 
incumbere jam possemus, Ego vero, ait ille, quanta ejus et quam solida 
video esse fundamental laturum spero haud dubie quicquid inaedifica - 
vero. Cave igitur putes, Angele , quenquam adhuc ex nostris, indole 
fuisse tanta , quantam jam Petrus ostendit, ut speretn fore , atque adeo 
augurer (nisi me ipsius ingenii aliquot jam experimenta fefellerint) ne 
cui sit majorum suorum concessurus. Atque hujus quidem judicii prae- 
sagiique paterni, magnum profecto et clarum specimen hoc nuper de- 
dit, quod aegrotanti praesto fuit semper, omniaque per se pene etiam 
sordida ministeria obivit, vigiliarum patientissimus, et inediae ; nun- 
quamque a lectulo ipso patris, nisi cum maxime Respublica urgeret, 
avelli passus. Et cum mirifica pietas extaret in vultu, tamen ne mor- 
bum aut solicitudinem paternam moerore suo adaugeret, gemitus 
omneis, et lachrymas incredibili virtute quasi devorabat. Porro autem, 
quod unum tristissima in re pulcherrimum, ceu spectaculum videbamus, 
invicem pater quoque ipse, ne tristiorem filium tristitia sua redderet, 
frontem sibi extempore velut aliam fingebat, ac fluentes oculos in illius 
gratiam continebat, nunquam aut consternatus animo, aut fractus, do¬ 
nee ante ora natus obversaretur. Ita ujterque, certatim vim facere 
afiectibus suis, ac dissimulare pietatem pietatis studio nitebatur. Ut 
autem Laurentius e vita decessit, dici vix potest, quanta et humanitate, 
et gravitate cives omneis suos Petrus noster ad se domum confluentes 
exceperit, quam et apposite, et varie, et blande etiam dolentibus, con- 
solantibusque pro tempore, suamque operam pollicentibus respondent; 
quantam deinde, et quam solertem rei constituendae familiari curam 


APPENDIX, XLI. 


529 


impendent: ut necessitudines suas omneis gravissimo casu perculsas 
sublevarit: ut vel minutissimum quemque ex familiaribus dejectum, 
diffidentemque sibi adversis rebus collegerit, erexerit, animaverit, ut in 
obeunda quoque Republica nulli unquam, aut loco, aut tempori, aut 
muneri, aut homini defuerit, nulla denique in parte cessaverit; sic ut 
earn plane institisse jam viam atque ita pleno gradu iter ingressus vide- 
atur, brevi ut putetur parentem quoque ipsum vestigiis consecuturus. 
De funere autem nihil est quod dicam. Tantum ad avi exemplum ex 
praescripto celebratum est, quemadmodum ipse, ut dixi, moriens mau- 
daverat: tarn magno autem omnis generis mortalium concursu, quam 
magnum nun quam antea meminerimus. Prodigia vero mortem ferme 
liaec antecesserunt, quanquam alia quoque vulgo feruntur. Nonis 
Aprilibus, hora ferme diei tertia, triduo antequam animam edidit Lau- 
rentius, mulier, nescio quae, dum in aede sacra Mariae novellae, quae 
dicitur, declamitanti e pulpito dat operam, repente inter confertam 
populi multitudinem expavefacta consternataque consurgit, lympha- 
toque cursu, et terrificis clamoribus. Ileus heus, inquit, cives, an kune 
non cernitis ferocientem taurum , qui templum hoc ingens Jlammatis cor- 
nibus ad terrain dejicit ? Prima porro vigilia, cum coelum nubibus de 
improviso foedaretur, continuo Basilicae ipsius maximae fastigium, 
quod opere miro singularem toto terrarum orbe testudinem supere- 
minet, tactum de coelo est, ita ut vastae quaepiam dejicerentur moles, 
atque in earn potissimum partem, qua Medicae convisuntur aedes, vi 
quadam horrenda, et impetu, marmora immania torquerentur. In quo 
illud etiam praescito non caruit, quod inaurata una pila, quales aliae 
quoque in eodem fastigio conspiciuntur, excussa fulmine est, ne non 
ex ipso quoque insigni proprium ejus familiae detrimentum porten- 
deretur. Sed et illud memorabile, quod, ut primum detonuit, statim 
quoque serenitas reddita. Qua autem nocte obiit Laurentius, stella 
solito clarior, ac grandior, suburbano imminens, in quo is animam 
agebat, illo ipso temporis articulo decidere, extinguique visa, quo com- 
pertum deinde est eum vita demigrasse. Quin exemrisse etiam faces 
trinoctio perpetue de Faesulanis montibus, supraque id templum, quo 
reliquiae conduntur Medicae gentis, scintillasse nonnihil, moxque eva- 
nuisse feruntur. Quid ? quod et leonum quoque nobilissimum par in 
ipsa qua publice continentur cavea, sic in pugnam ferociter concurrent, 
ut alter pessime acceptus, alter etiam leto sit datus. Arreti quoque 
supra arcem ipsam, geminae perdiu arsisse flammae, quasi Castores 
feruntur, ac lupa identidem sub moenibus ululatus terrificos edidisse. 
Quidam illud etiam (ut sunt ingenia) pro monstro interpretantur, quod 
excellentissimus (ita enim habebatur) hujus aetatis medicus, quando 
ars eum praescitaque fefellerant, aninium despondent, puteoque se 
sponte demerserit, ac principi ipsi Medicae (si vocabulum spectes) 
familiae sua nece parentaverit. Sed video me, cum quidem multa, et 
magna reticuerim, ne forte in speciem adulationis inciderem, longius 
tamen provectum, quam a principio institueram. Quod ut facerem, 
partim cupiditas ipsa obsequendi, obtemperandique tibi optimo, doc- 
tissimo prudentissimoque homini, mihique amicissimo, cujus quidem 
studio satisfacere brevitas ipsa in transcursu non poterat: partim etiam 

34 


530 


APPENDIX, XLIII. 


amara quaedam dulcedo, quasique titillatio impulit, recolendae, fre- 
quentandaeque ejus viri memoriae. Cui si parem similemque nostra 
aetas umim forte atqne alterum tulit, potest audacter jam de splendore 
nominis et gloria, cum vetustate quoque ipsa contendere. Yale 15. 
Cal. Junias, mcccclxxxii. in Faesulano Rusculo. 


No. XLII. p. 361. 

Joannes Cardinalis de ’ Medici. 

Magnifico viro Petro de Medicis. 

Cartssime frater mi, ac unicum nostrae domus columen. Quid 
scribam, mi frater, praeter lachrimas pene nihil est, perche conside- 
rando la felice memoria di nostro Padre essere mancliata, flere magis 
libet, quam quidpiam loqui. Pater erat, ac qualis Pater! In filios 
nemo eo indulgentior: teste non opus est, res ipsa indicat. Non mirum 
igitur, se mi dolgo, se piango, se quiete alcuna non truovo, ma alquanto, 
mi frater, mi comforta, che ho te, quern loco defuncti patris semper 
habebo. Tuum erit imperare, meum vero jussa capessere: farannomi e 
tua comandamenti sempre sommo piacere supra quam credi potest. 
Fac periculum: impera; nihil est, puod jussa retardem. Oro tamen, mi 
Petre, is velis esse in omnes, in tuos praesertim, qualem desidero, bene- 
ficum, affabilem, comem, liberalem, con le quali cose non b cosa che 
non si acquisti, e non si conservi. Non ti ricordo questo, perche mi 
diffidi di te, ma perche cosi mio debito richiede. Confirmant me multa 
ac consolantur, concursus lugentium domum nostram fastus, tristis 
totius urbis ac moesta facies, publicus luctus, et caetera id genus plu- 
rima, quae dolorem magna ex parte levant; ma quello, che pih che 
altro mi comforta, b Y havere te, nel quale tanto mi confido, quanto 
facilmente dire non posso. Di quello, che awisi si debba tractare con 
N. S. non s’ b facto nulla, perche eosi e paruto meglio: piglierassi un* 
altra via, secondo che per le lettere delli Imbasciatori intenderai: credo 
si pigliera uno modo et pih comodo, et piu facile, el quale, ut quod 
mihi videtur, ti satisfera. Vale: nos quoque, ut possumus valemus. 
Ex Urbe, die 12 Aprdis, 1492. 


No. XLIII. p. 367. 

Laurentio de Medicis. 

A bagno a Vignone 3 Filius Petrus de Medicis. 

Magnifice Pater, &c. Intesi da Ser Piero par una sua, che hebbi 
hiermattina, quanto desideravi si facessi circa. la venuta di Messer 
Hermolao, el quale venne hieri dopo mangiare, et quasi ex improviso, 
che non se ne seppe nulla, se non forse un’ hora innanzi. Io gli andai 
incontro, et da quattro o cinqu’ altri in fuora non vi venne altri, et 
bisogno, cha gli smontassi all’ osteria, che ancora non era ad ordine la 




APPENDIX, XLII1. 


531 


stantia, che vi si meno poi a pib. Subito che io fui smontato, tornai da 
lui per invitarlo, come mi era suto scripto, et visitarlo, et per intendere 
quanto voleya stare qui fermo; invitailo per hoggi, et intesi non stava 
pib qui che oggi, et domane cavalcava per essere domane sera a Poggi- 
bonsi, o in luogo, che 1’ altro di desini in Siena, dove non posso 
intendere se si fermera. Noi lo habbiamo hoggi convitato, che non si 
potria dire, quanto lui lo ha havuto a caro. Habbiamogli dato in 
compagnia a tavola chi lui desiderava, oltra quelli che lui haveva seco, 
che haveva un suo fratello carnale, un Segretario di San Marco, et un 
Dottore. Di qui vi fu el Conte dalla Mirandola, Messer Marsilio, M. 
Agnolo da Montepulciano, et per torre un cittadino, et non uscire di 
parente et letterato, togliemmo Bernardo Rucellai, che non so se 
habbiamo facto bene o male. Dipoi che havemmo desinato, li monstrai 
la casa, le medaglie, vasi et cammei et in summa ogni cosa per insino 
al giardino, di che prese grande piacere, benche non credo s’intenda 
molto di scultura. Pure gli piaceva assai la notitia et l’antiquita delle 
medaglie, et tutti si maravigliavano del numero di si buone cose, &c. 
Di lui non vi saprei dire particulare, se non che b un homo molto 
elegante nel parlare per quello io ne intendo. Ajutasi delle lettere, et 
fassene honore et in rubare motti, et in dime ancora in Latino. Lo 
aspecto lo vedrete, che non puo essere migliore, et secondo i facti. 
Temperato in ogni sua cosa, et pare ne habbi bisogno, che pare molto 
cagionevole et debole di complexione. Ha nome di experto in rebus 
agendis, ma non pare consonino queste cose insieme, che pib presto 
pare da ceremonia che no. Non potrebbe monstrare, pib che si faccia, 
essere vostro amico, et credo sia, et molto gratamente ha ricevuto ogni 
honore, che gli e stato facto, etnon punto alia Yeneziana, che non pare 
di la se non al vestire. Ma secondo che dice ha grandissimo desiderio 
di vedervi, et dice volere divertere per trovarvi ed abbracciarvi: hovelo 
voluto significare se a voi facessi per proposito di aspettarlo, che dice 
havere commissione etiam di salutarvi da parte della sua Signoria. 
Qui gli e stato facto honore publico da’ cittadini, et ristorato del 
lasciarlo smontare all’ Osteria, et stamane innanzi venisse a desinare 
visito la Signoria con molte grate parole, le quali non scrivo, perche 
credo Ser Niccolo ve le scrivera lui, che cosi gli ho decto. Fuvi un 
poco di scandalo, che nel rispondere el Gonfaloniere prese un poco di 
vento presso al fine, et cosi si resto senza troppa risposta, che credo 
nello animo suo se ne ridessi, et ab uno didicerit omnes, che cosi se ne 
doleva hoggi qualchuno de nostri. Circa 1’ onore non so che mi vi 
dire altro. El convito come gl’ ando faro fare una listra all’ Orafo, & 
ve la mandero forse con questa, se lo trovano. Jacopo Guicciardini si 
sta cosi presto un poco peggio che no; che hieri gli venne un poco d’ 
accidente di tossa, et sputo cosa, secondo dicono quelli sua, molto 
strana, et pure inoltra con gl’ anni in modo, che a lungo andare, a mio 
juditio, quod absit, io ne dubito piu presto che no. La Contessina 
sta bene, et ha gia tre sciloppi, et seguita di purgarsi: et tutta 1’ altra 
brigata di qui sta benissimo. Non vi scrivo nulla della libreria, perche 
rispecto alia venuta dello Imbasciatore sono a quello medesimo che 
1’ altro di. Raccomandomi a voi. Firenze, a di 10 di Maggio, 1490. 


582 


APPENDIX, XLIV. 


No. XLIV. p. 404. 

DEO LIBER ATOM. 

Per non venire piOi in potere de’ maligni inimici miei, ove, oltre 
all’ essere stato ingiustamente e crudelmente straziato, sia costretto 
di nuovo, per violenza di tormenti, dire alcuna cosa in pregindizio dell’ 
onore dell’ innocenti parenti, et amici miei, la qual cosa e accaduta a 
questi giorni alio sventurato Giuliano Gondi: Io Filippo Strozzi mi 
sono deliberate, in quel modo che io posso, quantunque duro (rispetto 
all’ anima) mi paia, con le mie proprie mani finire la vita mia: L’ 
anhna mia a Iddio, somma miserecordia, raccomando, humilmente 
pregandolo, se altro darle di bene non vuole, che le dia almeno quel 
luogo dove Catone Uticense, e altri simili virtuosi uomini hanno fatto 
tal fine. 

Prego D. Giovan di Luna Castellano, che mandi a torre del mio 
sangue dopo la mia morte, e ne faccia fare un migliaccio, mandan- 
dolo a Cibo cardinale, affine che si satii in morte di quello, che satiare 
non si e potuto in vita, perche altro grado non gli manca per arrivare 
al ponteficato, a che esso si disonestamente aspira : E lo prego che 
faccia sepellire il mio corpo in Santa Maria Novella, appresso a quello 
dalla mia donna, quando che no, mi staro dove mi metteranno : Prego 
bene i miei Figliuoli che osservino il testamento fatto da me in Castello, 
il quale e in mano di Benedette Ulivieri, eccetto che la partita del 
Bandino ; E sodisfare ancora al signor D. Giovan di Luna di mold 
comodi da lui ricevuti, e spese fatte per me, non 1’ avendo sodisfatto 
mai di cos’ alcuna; e tu Cesare con ogni riverenza ti prego t’ informi 
meglio de’ modi della povera citta di Firenze, riguardando altrimenti, 
che tu non hai fatto al ben di quella, se gia il fine tuo non e di 
rovinarla. 

Philippus Strozza , jamjam moriturus. 

Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus ultor. 


INDEX. 


Acciajuoli, the family of, conspire 
against Piero de’ Medici, 49 ; Agnolo, 
his letter to Piero de’ Medici, 53; 
Donato inscribes several of his works 
to Piero de’ Medici, 59 ; his embassy 
to Rome, 133 ; death, 138 ; Piero ba¬ 
nished from Florence, 51. 

Accolti, Benedetto, his history of the 
wars between the Christians and the 
Turks, 58; Bernardo, his tragedy of 
Virginia, 193. 

Agnana, a farm of Lor. de’ Medici, 294. 

Alberti, Leo Battista, his Latin comedy 
entitled Philodoxios, 55 ; introduced 
by Landino in his Disputationes Ca- 
maldulenses, 66. 

Albizi, Rinaldo de’, opposes Cosmo de’ 
Medici, 9; banished, 13. 

Alexander VI., his elevation to the pon¬ 
tificate, 362. 

Altercazione, an Italian poem, by Lorenzo 
de’ Medici, 105. 

Ambra, an Italian poem, by Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, 180. 

Ambra, a Latin poem of Politiano, 291. 

Ancient authors, their works discovered, 
15. 

Ancients and moderns compared, 171. 

Architecture encouraged by Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, 340. 

Argyropylus, Johannes, instructs Lorenzo 
in the Aristotelian philosophy, 46; 
teaches the Greek language at Flo¬ 
rence 256 ; his death, 257. 

Arts, their progress, 316 ; state of them 
in the middle ages, 317; revival in 
Italy, 317; their imperfection, 325; 
causes of their improvement, 326. 

Augurelli, Aurelio, a Latin poet, 274. 

Aurispa, Giovanni, his researches after 
works of the ancients, 19. 


Bagnone, Stefano, an accomplice in the 
Pazzi conspiracy, 117. 

Baldini, Baccio, an early engraver on 
copper, 345. 

Baldovinetti, excelled in painting por¬ 
traits, 323. 

Baldovini, Lamento di Cecco da Varlun- 
ga, 191. 

Bandini, Bernardo, an accomplice in the 
conspiracy of the Pazzi, 117; his 
death, 124 ; Francesco, president of 
the Platonic festival, 108. 

Barbaro, Ermolao, 367. 

Beca da Dicomano, rustic poem of Luigi 
Pulci, 191. 

Beccatelli, Antonio, his Hermaphroditus 
and other poems, 33, 263, 271. 

Bembo, Bernardo, 138; Pietro, 138; 
verses to the memory of Politiano, 
370. 

Bentivoglio, Giovanni, assists Lorenzo, 
129; attacks Manfredi, prince of Fa- 
enza, 313. 

Beoni, a satirical poem of Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, 186. 

Berlinghieri, Francesco, La Geografia, 
276. 

Bessarion, cardinal, his dispute with 
George of Trebisond, 34. 

Bianchi and Neri, 3. 

Blondo, Flavio, his character of Cosmo 
de’ Medici, 15. 

Boccaccio, Giovanni, his Decamerone, 
153 ; [Latin writings, 238 ; his high 
opinion of Masaccio, 40; of the doors 
cast by Ghiberti, 41. 

Bologna, battle of, 54. 

Bosso, Matteo, his character and works, 
307. 

Braccio, Alessandro, a Latin poet, 274. 

Brunelleschi, Filippo, 39. 



534 


INDEX. 


Bruni, Leonardo, called Leonardo Are- 
tino, his character and writings, 14; 
promotes the cause of learning, 240. 

Buonaroti, Michelagnolo, studies in the 
gardens of S. Marco, 333 ; resides with 
Lorenzo, 334; advantages over his 
predecessors, 335 ; his sculptures, 336; 
great improvement of taste introduced 
by him, 337 ; unjustly censured, 338 ; 
Michelagnolo the younger, his rustic 
comedy entitled La Tancia, 191. 

Burchiello, his writings, 156. 

Caffagiolo, description of, 294. 

Calabria, duke of, defeats the Floren¬ 
tines, 139 ; defeated by Roberto Mala- 
testa, 211. 

Calandrino, Tomaso, Nicholas V., account 
of, 26. 

Calphurnius, his writings discovered in 
England, 19. 

Cantalicio, a modern Latin poet, 274. 

Canti Carnascialeschi, 195. 

Canzoni a hallo, 197. 

Careggi, description of, 292. 

Casa, his sonnets, 177. 

Castagna, Andrea da, paints the portraits 
of the Pazzi conspirators, 132; intro¬ 
duces the practice of painting in oil, 
323. 

Cennini, Bernardo, the first Florentine 
printer, 245. 

Chalcondyles, Demetrius, teaches the 
Greek language at Florence, 257 ; story 
of his quarrel with Politiano refuted, 
258. 

Chrysoloras, Emanuel, 13; the modern 
father of classical learning, 241. 

Cibo, Giambattista, v. Innocent VIII.; 
Francesco, marries Madalena, daughter 
of Lorenzo de’ Medici, 302. 

Cicero, several of his writings discovered 
by Poggio, 17. 

Ciriffo Calvaneo, heroic poem of Luca 
Pulci, 160. 

Clarice, wife of Lorenzo, 74, 282 ; quar¬ 
rels with Politiano, 285 ; her death, 
308. 

Classical learning, progress of, in Italy, 
237, 269. 

Classical authors discovered, 15 ; early 
editions of, 245. 

Collectiones Cosmianae, 32. 

Colonna, Otto, Martin V. elected pope, 7. 

Columella, his works discovered, 18. 

Constantinople, capture of, 28. 

Contucci, Andrea, an eminent painter, 
308. 


Corniuoli, Giovanni delle, a celebrated 
engraver on gems, 348. 

Corydon, a poem by Lor. de’ Medici, 167. 

Cossa, Balthazar, John XXIII., 7. 

Council of Florence in 1438, 22. 

Cremona, congress of, 213. 

Crescimbeni, his character of the poetry 
of Lorenzo, 199. 

Cydonius, Demet.,a learned Greek, 241. 

Dante, his Inferno, 154 ; character of his 
sonnets, 176; character of his Latin 
writings, 238. 

Denmark, king of, at Florence, 103. 

Domenico de’ Camei, an engraver ou 
gems, 348. 

Donatello, favoured by Cos. de’ Medici, 
41; his works in sculpture, 325. 

Donati, Lucrezia, mistress of Lorenzo, 73. 

Drama, Italian, its rise, 191; musical, 
its origin, 194. 

Driadeo d’ Amore, pastoral romance of 
Luca Pulci, 159. 

Engraving on copper, invention of, 345; 
on gems, revival of, 347. 

Este, Borso d’, marquis of Ferrara, 82; 
Ercole d’, duke of Ferrara, assists Lo¬ 
renzo, 129 ; is succoured by Lorenzo, 
209. 

Federigo of Arragon, his interview with 
Lorenzo at Pisa, 47; Lorenzo ad¬ 
dresses his poems to him, 163 ; count 
of Urbino, assists Florence against 
Venice, 54 ; assists Ferrara against the 
pope, 210. 

Ferdinand king of Naples, his letter to 
Lorenzo, 52 ; his abilities as a states¬ 
man, 79; declines the proposed mar¬ 
riage between his daughter and the 
dauphin of France, 101; leagues with 
the pope against the Florentines, 135; 
is visited by Lorenzo at Naples, 140; 
concludes a peace with him, 145; 
threatened by the pope, 217 ; defend¬ 
ed by Lorenzo, 219 ; reconciled to the 
pope, 221 ; his cruelty and perfidy, 
227. 

Ferrara, its government, 82. 

Ferrara, duke of, attacked by the Vene¬ 
tians and the pope, 208 ; defended by 
Lorenzo, 209. 

Ficino, Marsilio, educated in the Platonic 
philosophy, 23; instructs Lorenzo, 46; 
his abstract of the doctrines of Plato, 
105; introduced by Lorenzo in his 
Altercazione, 109. 


INDEX. 


535 


Fidelis, Cassandra, her extraordinary ac¬ 
complishments, 267. 

Fiesole, its situation, 2 ; destroyed, 2. 

Filelfo, Francesco, studies under Chryso- 
loras, 14 ; his character, 20; researches 
after ancient manuscripts, 21 ; dissen¬ 
sions with Poggio, 35. 

Florence, its origin, 2 ; government, 2 ; 
council of, 22 ; academy of, establish¬ 
ed by Cosmo, 23; its advancement in 
science, 66; its state at the death 
of Piero de’ Medici, 81; peculiar ad¬ 
vantages of its political situation, 81 ; 
commencement of its maritime trade, 
87 ; review of its government, 229 ; 
regulations introduced by Lorenzo, 
230; its prosperity, 231; extinction 
of the republic, 403. 

Florentine secretaries, eminent scholars, 
260. 

Folengi, Niccolo, a Latin poet, 274. 

Franco, Matteo, his sonnets, 161. 

Frescobaldi, conspiracy of, 206. 

Gaza, Theodore, his treatise against the 
Platonic philosophy, 35. 

Genazano, Mariano, a distinguished 
preacher, 304. 

Gentile, d’ Urbino, bishop of Arezzo, in¬ 
structs Lorenzo, 46 ; ode addressed to 
him by Politiano, 130; summons a 
convention at Florence against Sixtus 
IV., 134. 

George of Trebisond, his dispute with 
cardinal Bessarion, 34. 

Ghiberti, Lorenzo, his works in sculp¬ 
ture, 41, 325. 

Giostra of Lorenzo and Giuliano, 59. 

Giotto, character of his paintings, 319. 

Granacci, Francesco, a fellow-student of 
Michelagnolo, 333 ; his talents, 339. 

Greek academy instituted at Florence, 
255. 

Grocin, William, a student at Florence, 
259. 

Grosso, Niccolo, called II Caparra, his 
works in iron, 340. 

Guarino, Veronese, an eminent scholar, 
14, 37; his researches after the re¬ 
mains of ancient authors, 19. 

Guelphs and Ghibelines, 3. 

Hawking, poem on, by Lor. de’ Medici, 
181. 

Hermaphroditus, a licentious work of 
Beccatelli, 33. 

Improwisatori poets, remarks upon, 189, 


Inanimate objects, use of, in poetry, 170. 

Innocent VIII., his election to the pon¬ 
tificate, and character, 214 ; Lorenzo 
gains his confidence, 215 ; he prepares 
to attack the king of Naples, 217 ; op¬ 
posed by Lorenzo, 219 ; is reconciled 
to the king, 221 ; threatens him with 
fresh hostilities, 227 ; pacified by Lo¬ 
renzo, 229 ; his death, 362. 

Isabella of Aragon, her nuptials with Ga- 
leazzo Sforza, duke of Milan, 302; 
anecdote respecting her, 303. 

Italian language, its degradation, 155; 
revivers of it in the 15th century, 156. 

Italy, its political state, 78,205 ; general 
tranquillity of, 235; invaded by the 
French, 362. 

Landino, Cristoforo, instructs Lorenzo, 
46 ; his character, 57. 

Landino, Disputationes Camaldulenses, 
65 ; his poetry, 271; his commentary 
on Dante, 239; his edition of Horace, 
246. 

Laudi of Lorenzo de’ Medici, 183. 

League, Italian, against the Turks, 85. 

Leghorn, dominion of, purchased by the 
Florentines, 87. 

Leo X., v. Giovanni de’ Medici, age of, 
384. 

Library of S. George at Venice, founded 
by Cosmo de’ Medici, 12 ; Laurentian, 
established, 24; its progress, 242; 
plundered by the French, 366; re¬ 
stored, 386; S. Marco at Florence 
founded by Niccolo Niccoli, 25 ; of the 
Vatican, founded by Nicholas V., 27. 

Linacer, Thomas, studies the Greek 
tongue at Florence, 259. 

Lipi, Filippo, the elder, favoured by Cos¬ 
mo de’ Medici, 40; monument erected 
to him by Lorenzo, 322; Filippo, the 
younger, his paintings, 323. 

Literature, its persecution by Paul II., 93. 

Literary quarrels of the 15th century, 34. 

Livy, researches after his writings, 18. 

Louis XI. of France negotiates for the 
marriage of the dauphin with a daugh¬ 
ter of the king of Naples, 99 ; advises 
Lorenzo not to attend the congress of 
Cremona, 213. 

Lucretius, discovery of his works, 18. 

Madelina, daughter of Lorenzo, marries 
Francesco Cibo, 302. 

Maffei, Antonio, an accomplice in the 
Pazzi conspiracy, 117 ; Raffaello, kind¬ 
ness of Lorenzo to him, 132. 


536 


INDEX. 


Mahomet II. captures Constantinople, 
28; captmes the island of Negropont, 
85 ; captuies Otranto, 149 ; his death, 
207. 

Malavolti, Federigo, his courtesy to Cos¬ 
mo de’ Medici, 10. 

Malatesta, Roberto, commands the Flo¬ 
rentine troops, 139 ; engages in the 
service of the pope, 210; his death, 
211. 

Manetti, Gianozzo, 14 ; studies perspec¬ 
tive, 321. 

Manfredi, Galeotto, his tragical death, 
312. 

Mantegna, Andrea, his engravings, 346. 

Marsuppini, Carlo, 14, 260. 

Masaccio, favoured by Cosmo de’ Medici, 
40. 

Maximis, Carolus de’, his poem on the 
restoration of the academy at Pisa, 
273. 

Medici family, antiquity of, 4 ; nature of 
their influence in Florence, 8 ; sources 
of their wealth, 85 ; their commercial 
concerns, 87: other sources of their 
revenue, 88 ; expelled from Florence, 
364 ; their adherents decapitated, 374 ; 
restored to Florence, 381; Alessandro 
de’, natural son of Lorenzo, duke of 
Urbino, 393 ; assumes the sovereignty 
of Florence, 396 ; assassinated by Lo¬ 
renzo de’ Medici, 397 ; Bianca, daugh¬ 
ter of Cosmo, 30; Carlo, son of Cosmo, 
30 ; Cosmo de’, Pater Patriae, 6 ; as¬ 
sists Balthasar Cossa, John XXIII., 7 ; 
is seized and imprisoned, 9 ; is banish¬ 
ed to Padua, 10 ; is allowed to reside 
at Venice, 11; founds the library of 
S. George at Venice, 12; recalled from 
banishment, 13; encourages men of 
learning, 13 ; founds the Laurentian 
library, 24; collects ancient works, 
24 ; applies himself to study, 29 ; his 
celebrity, 32 ; his death and character, 
37; encourages the arts, 39 ; his col¬ 
lection of antiques, 331; his repartees, 
41; his great prosperity, 42; Cosmo 
de’, first grand duke, 402; Giovanni 
de’, an ancestor of Lorenzo, reinforces 
the fortress of Scarperia, 5 ; Giovanni 
de’, surnamed de’ Bicci, father of Cos¬ 
mo Pater Patriae, 6; his last advice to 
his two sons, 6 ; Giovanni de’, son of 
Cosmo, his death, 31; Giovanni de’, 
Leo X., second son of Lorenzo, horn, 
282 ; his character, 287 ; raised to the 
dignity of cardinal, 295; letter to him 
from Lorenzo on his promotion, 297; 


letter from him to his brother Piero, 
on the death of their father, 361; his 
conduct in his exile, 379 ; his election 
to the pontificate, 381; promotes his 
relations, 382 ; restores his dominions 
to peace, 383; Giovanni de’, son of 
Pierfrancesco, assumes the name of 
Popolani, 394; Giovanni de’, captain of 
the Bande nere, 394; Giuliano de’, 
brother of Lorenzo, born, 30; his 
Giostra, and poem on that subject by 
Politiano, 59 ; his character, 84 ; as¬ 
sassinated in the conspiracy of the 
Pazzi, 119; his obsequies, 125; per¬ 
sonal accomplishments, 125; Giuliano 
de’, duke of Nemours, third son of Lo¬ 
renzo, born, 283 ; his character, 387 ; 
his death, 389 ; Giulio de’, (Clement 
VII.) born, 126 ; follows the fortunes 
of the cardinal Giovanni, 381 ; obtains 
the pontificate, and erects a building 
for the Laurentian library, 387 ; Ippo- 
lito de’, natural son of Giuliano, duke 
of Nemours, 390; his death, 397 ; Lo¬ 
renzo de’, brother of Cosmo, 6, 225; 
collects remains of antiquity, 329; 
Lorenzo il Magnifico born, 30; his 
early accomplishments, 44; his person 
and character, 45; education, 46; 
studies under Landino and Argyropy- 
lus, 46 ; his interview with Federigo of 
Aragon at Pisa, 47 ; visits Rome, 47 ; 
rescues his father from an attempt on 
his life, 50 ; defeats the conspiracy of 
Luca Pitti, 52; letter to him from 
Ferdinand king of Naples, 52 ; his cle¬ 
mency, 53; his Giostra, and poem 
of Luca Pulci on that subject, 59, 61; 
his description of his mistress, 68; 
sonnets in her praise, 71; marries 
Clarice Orsini, 74; his journey to 
Milan, 75 ; his letter to his wife, 75; 
intrusted with the direction of the 
Florentine state, 83 ; appointed syndic 
of the republic, 85; his splendid en¬ 
tertainment of the duke of Milan, 88 ; 
devotes his leisure to literature, 90; 
his embassy to Sixtus IV., 95 ; enlarges 
his classical collection, 95 ; suppresses 
the revolt at Volterra, 96 ; establishes 
the academy at Pisa, 98; negotiates 
for a marriage between the dauphin 
and a daughter of the king of Naples, 
99; his poem entitled Altercazione, 
105 ; wounded in the conspiracy of the 
Pazzi, 118 ; Lorenzo de’, conduct after 
the conspiracy, 124 ; prepares to resist 
the pope and the king of Naples, 128; 


INDEX. 


537 


his kindness to the relations of the 
conspirators, 131; danger of his situa¬ 
tion, 136; sends his family to Pistoia, 
137; negotiates for peace, 138; re¬ 
solves to visit the king of Naples, 
140; his letter to the magistrates of 
Florence, 141; embarks at Pisa, 144 ; 
interview with the king, 145; con¬ 
cludes a treaty with him, 145 ; his re¬ 
ception at Florence, 148 ; concludes a 
peace with the pope, 149 ; his studies, 
151; his criticisms on Dante, 154; 
his early writings, 163; inquiry into 
his poetical character, 164 ; his talents 
for description, 165; poetic compari¬ 
son, 166 ; personification, 170 ; of the 
passions and affections, 171; his ta¬ 
lents for the Prosopopeia, 172 ; various 
species of poetry cultivated by him, 
174; sonnets and lyric pieces, 178; 
Selve d’ Amore, 178 ; Ambra, a fable, 
180; poem on hawking, 181; moral 
pieces, 181 ; sacred poems, 183; 
I Beoni, a satire, 186; La Nencia da 
Barberino, 190; dramatic works, 193; 
Rappresentatione, 193 ; Canti Carnas- 
cialeschi, 195; Canzoni a ballo, 197; 
character of his poetry by Pico of 
Mirandula and others, 198 ; celebrated 
in the Nutricia of Politiano, 200; he 
endeavours to secure the peace of 
Italy, 204 ; conspiracy against him by 
Frescobaldi, 206; defends the duke of 
Ferrara against the Pope and Vene¬ 
tians, 209 ; obtains the confidence of 
Innocent VIII., 215; joins the army 
before Pietra Santa, 216 ; defends the 
king of Naples against Innocent VIII., 
219 ; reconciles the pope and the 
king, 221; suppresses the insurrection 
at Osimo, 223; joins the army, and 
captures Sarzana, 224; protects the 
smaller states of Italy, 225 ; reconciles 
the pope and the king of Naples a se¬ 
cond time, 227 ; regulates the govern¬ 
ment of Florence, 230; his high repu¬ 
tation, 234; his ardour in collecting 
ancient manuscripts, 244 ; establishes 
the Greek academy at Florence, 255; 
domestic character, 278; accused of 
being addicted to licentious amours, 
280 ; vindicated, 281; conduct towards 
his children, 283 ; discharges his debts, 
and quits commerce for agriculture, 
288 ; favours learned ecclesiastics, 304 ; 
erects a bust of Giotto, 319; encou¬ 
rages the arts, 321; raises a monu¬ 
ment to Fra Filippo at Spoleto, 322; 


augments his collection of antique 
sculptures, 331; establishes a school 
for the study of the antique, 332; 
favours Michelagnolo, 333; other ar¬ 
tists favoured by him, 339 ; attempts 
to revive Mosaic, 343; intends to re¬ 
tire from public life, 349; is taken 
sick, and removes to Careggi, 351; 
conduct in his last sickness, 352; in¬ 
terview with Pico and Politiano, 353; 
with Savonarola, 354; his death, 355 ; 
his character, 355; review of his con¬ 
duct as a statesman, 357 ; attachment 
of the Florentines to him, 358; cir¬ 
cumstances attending his death, 358 ; 
testimonies of respect to his memory, 
360; monody on his death by Poli¬ 
tiano, 368 ; Lorenzo de’, duke of Ur- 
bino, 391; his death and monument, 
392 ; Lorenzo de’, son of Pierfrancesco, 
called Lorenzino, 394; assassinates the 
duke Alessandro, 397; motives and 
consequences of the attempt, 401; is 
assassinated at Venice, 402 ; Lucretia, 
Lorenzo’s mother, her poetical talent, 
44 ; Nanina, daughter of Cosmo, 30 ; 
Piero de’, son of Cosmo, marries Lu¬ 
cretia Tornabuoni, 30; his conduct 
after the death of Cosmo, 48; pro¬ 
motes the interests of learning, 55,58; 
his death and character, 76; Piero de’, 
son of Lorenzo il Magnifico, born, 282; 
his character, 286 ; visits pope Inno- 
nocent VIII., 294 ; marries Alfonsina 
Orsini, 301; visits Milan, 302; ex¬ 
pelled from Florence, 364 ; his death 
and character, 377; sonnet by him, 
378 ; Salvestro de’, 5 ; Veri de’, 5. 

Merula, Giorgio, his controversy with 
Politiano, 252. 

Methodists, their doctrines resemble 
those of the Platonists, 131. 

Michelozzi, Michelozzo, accompanies 
Cosmo in his banishment, 12, 39. 

Milan, its government, 80. 

Miscellanea of Politiano, 252. 

Montesicco, Giambattista, an accomplice 
in the conspiracy of the Pazzi, 117; 
his death, 124. 

Morgante Maggiore of Luigi Pulci, 160. 

Mosaic, attempts to revive it, 343. 

Muratori, his criticism on Lorenzo, 178. 

Museum Florentinum, its origin, 331. 

Naldo de Naldis, his Latin poetry, 272. 

Naples, its government, 79. 

Nardi, Bernardo, attacks the town of 
Prato, 84. 



538 


INDEX. 


Nencia da Barberino, rustic poem of 
Lorenzo de’ Medici, 190. 

Neroni, Dietisalvo, treacherous advice of, 
to Lorenzo de’ Medici, 49. 

Niccoli, Niccolo, a promoter of learning, 
25; founds the library of S. Marco, 
25; collects the remains of ancient 
art, 329. 

Nicholas V. founds the Vatican Library, 
27. 

Nicholas of Treves brings a complete 
copy of Plautus to Rome, 18. 

Nori, Francesco, his assassination, by 
Bandini, 120. 

Nutricia of Politiano, 200. 

Olgiato, Girolamo, assassinates the duke 
of Milan, 111. 

Opera, origin of, 194. 

Orazioni of Lorenzo de’ Medici, 183. 

Orfeo of Politiano, 194. 

Orsini, Clarice, wife of Lorenzo, vide 
Clarice. 

Otranto, captured by the Turks, 149; 
retaken by the duke of Calabria, 207. 

Ottavio, Francesco, his poem De Caetu 
Poetarum, 59. 

Paleologus, John, emperor of the east, 
at Florence, 22. 

Paul II., his death and character, 93; a 
persecutor of men of learning, 93. 

Pazzi, conspiracy of, 113; origin of the 
attempt, 116; the family of, 114; 
reasons of their enmity to the Medici, 
115; arrangements for its execution, 
117; the conspirators attack the pa¬ 
lace, 120; repulsed by Cesare Pe- 
trucci, 121; memorials of it, 127; 
Francesco, his death, 122 ; Giacopo de’, 
his miserable death, 123; Guglielmo 
de’, banished, 123. 

Perugia, battle of, 139. 

Petrarca, his writings, 153; his sonnets, 
176 ; his Latin writings, 238; collects 
ancient medals, 328. 

Petronius, his works discovered, 19. 

Petrucci, Cesare, defends the palace, 121. 

Pico, Giovanni, of Mirandula, his cha¬ 
racter of the poetry of Lorenzo, 198; 
his history and character, 264; last 
interview with Lorenzo, 353; his death, 
367. 

Pietra Santa, captured by the Floren¬ 
tines, 216. 

Pisa, its academy established, 98 ; poem 
thereon by Carolus de Maximis, 273. 

Pisani, Nicolo, and Andrea, their works 
in sculpture, 324. 


Pitti, Luca, his conspiracy against the 
Medici, 49. 

Palazzo, its erection and progress, 51. 

Plato, revival of his philosophy, 23. 

Platonic academy, its progress, 104 ; fes¬ 
tival, 108; effects of this institution, 
108; number and celebrity of its 
members, 109. 

Plautus, Platinus, of Milan, a Latin poet, 
273. 

Plautus, his works discovered, 18. 

Pletho, Gemisthus, 23. 

Poetry, its object and characteristics, 
164, 170. 

Poggio, studies under Chrysoloras, 14; 
discovers the writings of many of the 
ancient authors, 16; resides in Eng¬ 
land, 19 ; his quarrel with Filelfo, 35 ; 
industry in collecting antique sculp¬ 
tures, 329; Giacopo engaged in the 
conspiracy of the Pazzi, 116; his 
death, 123. 

Poggio Cajano, description of, 289. 

Politiano, Agnolo, his Giostra of Giu- 
liano de’ Medici, 59, 62 ; his birth and 
education, 90; temper and character, 
92 ; his ode to Gentile d’Urbino, 130 ; 
his musical drama entitled Orfeo, 194 ; 
his Nutricia, 200; ode Ad Horatium 
Flaccum, 247 ; his industry as a com¬ 
mentator, 248; authors commented 
by him, 249; corrects the Pandects 
of Justinian, 250; his Miscellanea, 
252; controversy with Merula, 252; 
controversy with Scala, 261; his trans¬ 
lation of Herodian, 270; of Homer 
into Latin hexameter verse, 270 ; cha¬ 
racter of his Latin poetry, 274; ac¬ 
companies the family of Lorenzo to 
Pistoia, 283; his letters to Lucrezia, 
the mother of Lorenzo, 284; dissen¬ 
sions between him and Madonna Cla¬ 
rice, 285; she expels him the house, 
285; he retires to Fiesole, and writes 
his poem entitled Rusticus, 286; 
his last interview with Lorenzo de’ 
Medici, 353 ; absurd account respect¬ 
ing his death, 367; his monody on 
Lorenzo, 368; celebrated by cardinal 
Bembo, 370 ; authentic account of his 
death, 371. 

Pollajuolo, Antonio, his medal on the 
conspiracy of the Pazzi, 128; in¬ 
troduces the study of anatomy, 
322. 

Pontifical government, result of, 80. 

Prato, attack on, 84. 

Printing, invention of, 27 ; introduction 
in Florence, 245. 


INDEX. 


539 


Pulci, Bernardo, his writings, 157 ; Luca, 
his Giostra of Lorenzo de’ Medici, 59, 
61; his other writings, 158; Luigi, 
his Morgante, 160 ; sonnets, 161; La 
Beca da Diocomano, a rustic poem, 
191. 

Quintilian, his works discovered, 17. 

Raimondi, Marc-Antonio, his engravings, 
346. 

Rappresentazioni antiche, 191. 

Recuperationes Fesulanae of Matteo Bos- 
so, 307. 

Reformation, its rise, 383. 

Riario, Piero, his dissipation, 102; Giro¬ 
lamo, 102; engages in the conspiracy 
of the Pazzi, 114; assassinated, 309. 

Riario, Raffaello, an instrument in the 
Pazzi conspiracy, 114; escapes with 
his life, 122, 132. 

Rimini, defence of, by Lorenzo, against 
the pope, 211. 

Rome, its government, 80. 

Rosmunda, the tragedy of, by G. Rucellai, 
193. 

Rucellai, Bernardo, marries Nannina, sis¬ 
ter of Lorenzo, 302. 

Rustici, Gianfrancesco, an eminent painter, 
339. 

Rusticus, a Latin poem of Politiano, 286. 

Salviati, Francesco, archbishop of Pisa, 
engages in the conspiracy of the Pazzi, 
116; his death, 122; Averardo, fa¬ 
voured by Lorenzo de’ Medici, 131; 
Giacopo, marries Lucrezia, daughter 
of Lorenzo, 132, 302. 

Salutati, Coluccio, congratulates Deme¬ 
trius Cydonius on his arrival in Italy, 
241. 

Sangallo, Giuliano da, an eminent archi¬ 
tect, 341. 

Sarzana, attacked by the Florentines, 215; 
captured, 217. 

Satire, jocose Italian, its rise, 186. 

Savonarola, Girolamo, his character, 305 ; 
visits Lorenzo in his last sickness, 354 ; 
commotions excited by him at Flo¬ 
rence, 372; his disgrace and execu¬ 
tion, 375. 

Saxus, Pamphilus, his verses to the me¬ 
mory of Politiano, 372. 

Scala, Bartolomeo, draws up a memorial 
of the conspiracy of the Pazzi, 135; 
his character, 261; controversy with 
Politiano, 261; Alessandra, her learn¬ 
ing and accomplishments, 266. 


Sculpture, progress of, 324; state of, 
amongst the ancient Romans, 327 ; re¬ 
searches after the works of the an¬ 
cients in sculpture, 328. 

Selve d’amore of Lorenzo de’ Medici, 
178. 

Sforza, Constantino, general of the Flo¬ 
rentines, 139; Galeazzo Maria, duke 
of Milan, 80 ; his character, 80 ; visits 
Florence, 88; assassinated, 111; Ga¬ 
leazzo, his nuptials with Isabella of 
Arragon,302; Lodovico, called II Moro, 
his ambition, 112; invites the French 
into Italy, 303. 

Signorelli, Luca, character of his paint¬ 
ings, 324. 

Silius Italicus, discovery of his poem, 
18. 

Simonetta, mistress of Giuliano de’ Me¬ 
dici, 65 ; her death and funeral, 69. 

Simonetta, Cecco, opposes the authority 
of Lodovico Sforza, 112; his death, 
113. 

Sixtus IV., succeeds to the pontificate, 
95 ; his ambition and rapacity, 101; 
engages in the conspiracy of the Pazzi, 
114; his extreme violence, 132; ex¬ 
communicates Lorenzo and the ma¬ 
gistrates of Florence, 133; endeavours 
to prevail on the Florentines to deli¬ 
ver up Lorenzo, 135; his obstinacy, 
138; perseveres in the war, 148; 
leagues with the Venetians against the 
duke of Ferrara, 208 ; deserts and ex¬ 
communicates the Venetians, 212; his 
death and character, 213. 

Soderini, Niccolo, banished from Flo¬ 
rence, 51. 

Sofonisba,the tragedy of, byTrissino,193. 

Sonnet, Italian, its origin and defects, 
175. 

Squarcialupi, Antonio, a celebrated mu¬ 
sician, 277. 

Statius, his works discovered, 18. 

Strozzi, Filippo, opposes the authority of 
Cosmo de’ Medici, first grand duke, 
403; his death, 404. 

Synod convened at Florence, 134 ; reply 
to Sixtus, 134. 

Tacitus, attempts made to recover his 
works, 18. 

Toscanelli, Paolo, erects the Florentine 
Gnomon, 276. 

Traversari, Ambrogio, visits Cosmo de’ 
Medici in his banishment, 12; his 
character, 12 ; studies under Emanuel 
Chrysoloras, 14. 


540 


INDEX. 


Trissino, his Sofonisba, 193. 

Turks, their expulsion from Italy, 208. 

Uccelli, Paolo, studies perspective and 
foreshortening, 321. 

Ugolini, Baccio, the Improvvisatore, 194. 

Urbino, Raffaello de’, his obligations to 
Michelagnolo, 337. 

Valerius Flaccus, his works discovered 
by Poggio, 17. 

Venice, its war with Lorenzo, 52; its 
government and resources, 78. 


Verini, Ugolino, his Latin poetry, 272, 
Michel, his accomplishments and early 
death, 272. 

Vincentino, Valerio, an engraver on gems, 
348. 

Virginia, a tragedy by Bernardo Accolti, 
1C3. 

Volpaja, Lorenzo de’, constructs a time¬ 
piece for Lorenzo de’ Medici, 276. 

Volterra, its revolt and saccage, 96. 

Zambino of Pistoia, his library, 284. 


FINIS. 


C. AND 3 ADLARD, PRINTERS, B'.RTHOLOMKW CLOSE. 

































• I 













' • 






















A 
















% 
















•* 





















































V V V*/\ 

vWWv 

v **. 'Vi V / , 




vmm& 


■JW 

m 

I y,r 


• V 

M 

ki 

W* 

1 

| 

V ! 

u 


0 

W 












v w ^ 


|j w£ ^ % 


»fc tIwI ^w LjB A 

..' A ,1 <VIviaJ(1 


*4 i ■, 'nn^BaJII 


Muiy 

?3 V v J 

ffll i-r 

“k‘i ' ’ 


































